


Fanfic Court

by Snooky



Category: Hogan's Heroes
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-31
Updated: 2013-12-31
Packaged: 2018-01-06 22:57:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 26,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1112496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snooky/pseuds/Snooky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>WINNER 2010 Papa Bear Awards: Most Unique story...The setting: A hearing in Fanfic court. The case: Have we the authors gone too far? What happens when the characters get fed up and bring us to court? Here's one possible scenario. Please R & R. originally published on fanfiction.net in 2009.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Hogan's Heroes is owned by Bing Crosby Productions. Night Court, MASH, Star Trek: The Next Generation and Perry Mason are all owned by others. No copyright infringement is intended. Any resemblance to actual legal proceedings is purely coincidental.

I would like to extend a huge thanks to both Janet and Margherita. Without their support, suggestions and eagle eye, this story would not have been published.

And one final note: A quote. "At this point I've got a bit of a track record. So people realize that when 'Weird Al' wants to go parody, it's not meant to make them look bad...it's meant to be a tribute." Al Yankovic

Judge Harry Stone entered his chambers. A fairly new judge, Harry had come equipped with impeccable credentials and had been originally assigned to handle the lighter cases on the night shift. An amateur magician, he was witty, sharp, and somewhat eccentric, and was known for having a childlike sense of humor. He was in a great mood this morning because there was only one case listed on his docket. He had given the name a quick glance, and planned to familiarize himself with the details after he had his morning coffee. Harry glanced up to see his bailiff, Bull, coming into the office with his favorite brew.

"Morning, sir." Bull cheerfully placed the coffee, along with a napkin and cream-filled doughnut, on Harry's desk. "Thought you might need this, sir. Today's case is a little weird."

"Weird?" Harry looked at Bull. Weird didn't faze him. Years of handling all the wackos in Night Court had prepared him for anything. Besides, he considered himself a little odd.

"Yes, sir. Weird, odd, out of place, out of time, strange, bizarre, peculiar, unusual."

"Bull, stop. Sounds like you're parroting back a thesaurus."

"Sorry, sir." Bull looked at Harry expectantly.

"Hold your horses," Harry said through a mouthful of cream. "Let me look at the particulars." And that's what he did. And so, Judge Harry Stone quickly realized that he was not prepared for everything.

"All rise. Judge Harry Stone presiding." Bull's voice boomed throughout the courtroom.

The room was filled to the brim with a whole range of observers. Soldiers of various nationalities took up much of the front rows. Reporters, interested onlookers, and witnesses filled in the seats towards the back.

Harry motioned Bull over to the bench. "Remind me again why I'm presiding over this case."

"Um, the Law and Order judges were too busy?" Bull replied.

Harry gave his bailiff a nasty look and then grabbed his gavel. With a sigh he addressed the court.

"First, I'd like to say that no one is on trial here. This is a hearing to determine if there is enough evidence to warrant bringing the defendants to trial; sort of like a grand jury, but not quite. Okay, let's get started. But first, I have a question. Where are the defendants?"

"I can answer that, Judge." An older man, who looked remarkably like Raymond Burr, approached the bench. "They can't be here, physically."

"Can you explain that, please?"

"Well, it's kind of hard, you see, but it has something to do with time, space, planes of existence, and alternate realities."

"Alternate realities?" asked Harry. "What do you think this is; a Star Trek episode?"

"Sir, if I may." This remark came from the prosecutor who was seated at one of the tables in front of the courtroom. "When I present the case, this will all become clear."

"Whoa, you're right. This is a Star Trek episode. I'm cracking up here."

"No, sir, I'm just moonlighting." Commander Will Riker, first officer of the U.S.S. Enterprise NCC-1701A, offered a smile. "I did such a good job prosecuting Data in "A Measure of a Man," that I sort of just got transported here." (1)

Harry looked like he was about to cry. "You're the prosecutor?"

"Yes, sir," replied Will.

"All right," said Harry. "I'll wait and see what you have. This better make sense. Actually none of this makes sense. Okay, I'll repeat myself. We are here to determine if enough evidence exists to charge the defendants for the crimes for which they have been accused. Because of the unique nature of the defendants and the victims, we have agreed to hear evidence and examine witnesses from both the prosecution and the defense. Will the prosecutor please proceed?"

"Thank you, your honor. I will prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that the following defendants, your honor…may I draw your attention to the list? There are too many to name and their names are, well, weird."

"Yes, I have become familiar with the list. Can someone please explain these names? What are they; codes, spies, nicknames?"

"Screen names," said Riker. "These are internet IDs that are used by real people to hide their real identities."

"I don't know what the internet is, Commander."

"The information superhighway."

Harry looked at Riker with a quizzical expression.

"Pseudonyms, your honor."

"Never mind," Harry said. "We'll discuss this later. Continue."

Riker drew a breath, looked down at his data pad and continued.

"As I said, I intend to prove that the defendants in this case are guilty of a crime. A crime so gross, so brutal, so wanton, that it has never been seen in the annals of fan fiction; or at least in this particular category."

"Sorry to interrupt again." Harry held up his hand. "Fan fiction?"

"Your honor, didn't you read the brief?" Riker was now getting annoyed.

"The brief?" Harry turned to Bull. "Bull, did I read the brief? Did I receive a brief?"

Bull shrugged.

"Never mind," Riker said. "Fan fiction. Stories written by fans of fictional television shows, movies, books…etc, and posted on the internet for everyone to see and enjoy; except in this case…"

Harry interrupted again. "Do they get paid for these stories?"

This time Perry Mason piped in. "No, your honor. All they receive from their tremendously hard work is their own self-satisfaction, and the reviews and adulation of other fans."

"Whatever." Harry smacked his gavel on the desk, just because he could. "Okay Commander, continue."

"In this case, we intend to prove that these fans went a little too far; causing extreme distress, harm, and possibly permanent damage to the characters. The characters from Hogan's Heroes."

 

(1) Star Trek: The Next Generation.11 February 1989 (Season 2, Episode 9) Captain Picard requests a hearing to challenge Starfleet's reassignment of Data to a scientist that wishes to disassemble the sentient android when Data is ruled to be the property of Starfleet. Due to a shortage of personnel in the Judge Advocate General's office, Picard is assigned to defend Data's freedom and Commander Riker is assigned to prosecute the case and is told to do a good job, or else. To prove the point that Data is just a machine, Riker actually shuts him off.. However, the final plea by Picard sways the judge and she rules in Data's favor.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Chapter 2

"So without further ado, I would like to call my first witness. Sergeant Joe Wilson."

Wilson stepped up to the bench, took his oath, and sat down.

"Now, Sergeant Wilson, could you please inform the court of your position in Hogan's Heroes."

"I believe I was the POW's medic. At least I think I was. I only showed up in one episode, but I'm all over the net, Commander."

"Would you say that you were kept very busy in this fan fiction genre, Sergeant?"

"Constantly. I had to put everyone back together. It was awful."

"Can you please explain what you mean by awful?"

"Well, I'm just a medic. Sometimes things happened that I couldn't handle. I was constantly running low on supplies. Sometimes we had no morphine or penicillin. Other times, we seemed to have an infinite supply of morphine and penicillin. Hard to keep track. But the things I witnessed…" Wilson started to tear up. He stopped to wipe his eyes.

"Sergeant, I know this is hard, but I understand that you kept careful records of these terrible things that happened."

"Yes, I did. These things had consequences. I was usually left to pick up the pieces."

"Sergeant, can you read the list you've brought with you?"

"Okay, here it goes." He paused, cleared his throat and began to read. "In the time I've spent in Stalag 13 on fan fiction, the following horrible things have happened to the men under my care. Let's see. Newkirk was tortured and I had to treat the poor guy without an anesthetic, then he got amnesia. Carter was almost tortured to death and ended up in a coma. Carter was injured and his life is still hanging in the balance because the author is MIA. Klink's been seriously injured several times. Schultz was shot."

A cry of, "Oh, no, not Schultz!" went up in the courtroom.

"Quiet!" said Harry. "Please continue, Sergeant."

Wilson looked at his list. "Where was I? Oh, yes. The rest of this list may be a little hard to handle."

"And why is that, Sergeant?" Riker gently asked.

"Well, it concerns Colonel Hogan, and it's pretty gruesome."

"That's why we're here, Sergeant. Go ahead."

"Okay," Wilson said. "Here it goes. So far, Colonel Hogan has been pummeled, beaten, tortured in numerous ways I won't even mention, hung by his wrist or thumbs, poisoned by his enemies, poisoned by his own people, made sick by his enemies, deliberately made sick by his own people, voluntarily made himself sick, had a bomb placed under a cast on his wrist, given hypothermia and frostbite, brainwashed, made to think he killed his own men, overdosed on chloroform, given a morphine overdose on purpose, operated on with anesthetic, operated on without anesthetic, injured in an explosion he and his men set, almost lost his eye, suffered a brain injury, shot numerous times, fallen down a ravine, buried alive, been in a coma, had medical experiments thrust upon him by some really nasty people, caught in a cave-in, and given a really, really bad cold. I think I may have missed some. I haven't read them all, you know. Oh, and by now I wouldn't be surprised if the Colonel is addicted to morphine; he's been practically living on it." Riker and the rest of the courtroom looked at Wilson in astonishment.

The prosecutor managed to contain his amazement and horror and continued his questioning.

"He's been through all that? And you had to treat him?"

"Yes, sir. I treated him most of the time, which wasn't easy. He's not very cooperative with medical personnel; when he's conscious, that is. Sometimes German doctors were brought in, which was a good thing, too. Like I said, a lot of the injuries were too severe for me to handle."

"So, Sergeant Wilson, would you call these actions on the part of the writers, 'character abuse'?"

"I don't know what I would call it, Commander. But I definitely think it's weird."

"Thank you, Sergeant." Riker turned to Perry Mason. "Your witness."

"Sergeant Wilson. First let me congratulate you on your fine medical work. All of these characters are still alive and kicking, are they not?"

"Yes, sir."

"Well, then. You claim that you only had a small part in just one televised episode? Is that correct?"

Wilson answered in the affirmative.

"And I believe in that particular episode, your patient died?"

"Yes, sir, he was a courier. He took flak when he parachuted."

"Tsk, tsk. That is a shame. Yet, you appear in many of these fan fiction stories. How many? Hundreds, maybe?"

"Um, I've never counted."

"But you would admit, quite a few."

"Yes."

"And you seem to have had quite a starring role in some of these stories, haven't you?"

Wilson began to puff up in his own importance. "Well, you can say that. I have put in a lot of work."

"So would you say that these stories, along with all of their angst, have actually benefited your career?"

Riker stood up. "Objection. Conjecture."

"Sustained."

Mason was not perturbed. "No further questions, your honor."

Harry addressed Riker. "You may call your next witness."

"I call Sergeant James Kinchloe."

The doors to the back of the courtroom opened and in walked the distinguished Sergeant. All eyes followed him as he took his seat.

"Sergeant Kinchloe. Hogan's right hand man, correct?"

"Yes, sir."

I understand that if something happened to Colonel Hogan, you were then put in command."

"Yes, sir, it did happen that way."

"So, going back to the testimony we've heard, you must have been in command numerous times."

"Yes, sir."

"And how did you feel, Sergeant?"

"Dreadful. It's not what I had in mind when I joined. I mean, the other guys were pretty good about it, but let me tell you, it was quite a burden; making those decisions, planning rescues. And then all of the times we had to take care of the Colonel, and the other guys, too, of course. But most of the time, it was Colonel Hogan."

"Can you help us to understand what you and the other men in your unit had to go through?"

"Yes. You don't know what it's like watching your commanding officer almost die, over and over and over again. And over again. Dealing with the nightmares, the morphine injections, making up stories, over and over and over again; I mean, the angst!" Kinch began to choke up.

"So, here we have characters suffering terrible injuries, but those around to pick up the pieces also suffer as well. Is that fair to say, Sergeant?"

"Yes, I would say that."

"Objection!" This time it was Mason's turn. "The witness is not a psychiatrist."

"Overruled," replied Harry. "Taking care of a friend or loved one can take a toll on a person."

"So true, sir, so true." Bull was wiping the tears from his eyes.

Riker gave Mason a look of triumph. "Your witness, counselor."

Mason let out a frustrated sigh. "I have no questions for this witness, but I request permission to recall the witness if necessary."

"Granted," Harry said as he quickly moved to hide the silly putty that he was mauling.

"My next witness," Riker paused for effect. "Oh you'll like this one." He flashed a smile at the spectators. "I call Captain Benjamin Franklin Pierce."

Pierce, known to millions as Hawkeye, sauntered into the courtroom. He was handsomely decked out in his dress uniform. Pierce casually took the stand and gazed at the spectators with a devil may care look that left some of the females in the audience a little flushed.

"I object." All heads turned toward Perry Mason.

"To what?" said Harry, "He hasn't even started yet."

"This witness is from another war," said Mason. "He shouldn't be here."

"Counselor?" Harry looked down at Riker.

"He is considered an expert witness, your honor; a well-respected trauma surgeon who can give his professional opinion regarding the Colonel's injuries. Plus, he's had experience with the Colonel."

"Why can't we have doctors here from the correct war? The ones who treated the Colonel?"

"Mr. Mason. We can't have the doctors come over from HH fan fiction for a very simple reason. They are considered OCs; or, for you amateurs, made up characters. And we can't very well have them testify in this hearing without their creators' permission, can we?" Riker then looked at the judge, who was now attempting to untangle a slinky.

"Good point, Commander." Harry was actually paying attention. He was good at multi-tasking. "We all frown on copyright infractions, don't we? Objection overruled."

Riker began his questioning. "Captain Pierce, in your eleven years as a MASH surgeon…wait did I see eleven years? Whoa! Sorry. In your time as chief surgeon of the 4077th, you probably saw your share of trauma and torture and angst. Am I correct?"

"You wouldn't believe the things I've seen!" said Pierce. "War does terrible, horrible things to the human body. We did our best to patch those boys up, but sometimes our best just wasn't enough." Pierce was being unusually serious.

This is good, thought Riker. He was familiar with the famous surgeon's other side.

"You've had a chance to look over the history of Colonel Hogan's injuries; all these terrible things done to that poor man and his colleagues in the name of good writing, haven't you?"

"Yes," replied Pierce, "and let me say that the man should be dead. There's no way anyone, even a fictional character, could survive all of that. And if he's not dead, and I'm assuming he isn't; otherwise you would have said so, he would definitely suffer from lifelong problems."

"Physical or psychiatric, Captain?"

"Both," said Pierce. "If I was his doctor, I would definitely recommend psychiatric treatment. You can't go through all of that and not have mental problems."

"We'll get into the psychiatric aspects of this later, Captain, but I am interested in finding out about your brief past experience with Colonel Hogan. I understand he paid a visit to the future and ended up in your MASH unit?"

Pierce chuckled at the memory, and then quickly got serious. "Yes, that's right. He did show up there with his aide, Sergeant Kinchloe. Except the Sergeant was a Colonel, and the Colonel was a General. They came to visit a wounded friend."

"And how was his demeanor?"

"The General was okay; for a General, that is. He was real sharp: seemed to have great sense of humor. I think he hated Burns on sight." The courtroom laughed. "Yeah, we even had a drink together, but then something went wrong. He had a breakdown."

"What do you mean, Captain?"

"Well, I'm a little embarrassed, but I think Trap and I kind of acted a little juvenile, and that could have helped to instigate the problem. But, it was actually hallucinations. The General went wacko. Kept claiming he was seeing people from the past; from his POW camp in our camp."

"Was that possible, Captain?"

"No, Commander."

Riker continued. "So tell me, Captain, what happened to the General?"

"Well, we actually ended up restraining him for his own good until a psychiatrist could be called in, but somehow, they all got away. I mean; the General, Colonel Kinchloe, and even the patient they came to see vamoosed."

"Captain, do you think perhaps his odd behavior may have something to do with all of the trauma this poor man has suffered?"

Pierce paused. "I would rather you ask a psychiatrist that, Commander. That's my professional opinion."

"Thank you, Captain." Riker turned to Mason. "Your witness."

"Captain Pierce." Perry Mason approached the witness stand. "First, let me ask you if you ever had a chance to physically examine the alleged victim in this case."

"Um, no, but I did get a blow-by-blow description."

"So, without a physical examination, how could you make an assumption regarding the Colonel's injuries?"

Pierce responded. "It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out how to read those stories and form an educated guess."

Harry whispered to Bull, "How did he know how to read those things? He's from the '50's. I didn't even know there was an internet and I'm three decades younger!"

"You're no stranger to angst, are you, Captain?" Mason decided to change his tactic.

Pierce squirmed in his chair.

"Captain, can you answer the question?"

"Well, no. I'd rather not talk about it."

"I'm sorry, doctor, but since this is a court, albeit one in a fantasy, you do need to answer the question. Now, I've done a bit of research here and discovered that not only did you suffer terribly during the eleven year run of MASH on television, but you've also had difficulties on your own fan fiction site. Let's see," Mason drew out a list. "You've had a concussion, temporary blindness, nightmares, sleep deprivation, a complete and utter nervous breakdown, a skin rash, alcohol addiction, deaths of friends, claustrophobia, an overabundance of liver and fish, rib deprivation, creamed corn, a minor wound in the leg and arm, crossword problems, sniper attacks, a friend hurt, Frank Burns and Charles Winchester, and that's just from the show. Shall I continue?"

"No, you can stop now," said Pierce.

"And yet here you are! Healthy, sane, alive and kicking." Mason looked triumphant. "And in addition, I would like to point out to the court that nothing bad ever happened to anyone of the main characters in Hogan's Heroes in the six seasons they were on television. Nothing. No further questions."

"Let's break for the day. Come back in the a.m." Everyone agreed with the judge and left the courtroom. Back in his chambers, Harry conferred with Bull. "I think I need to get a hold of a newer computer and check out this fan fiction site."

Bull agreed. "Good idea, sir."

"Go requisition one from somewhere, grab a fourteen-year-old and let's get that puppy set up."

"Right away, sir." Bull left Harry alone with a deck of cards and returned a short while later with a laptop and a kid he pulled off of the street.

"Hey," said Harry.

"Hey," said the kid.

"Can you hook this up and show me how to find this?"

"No problem," said the kid. "I'll do it for twenty bucks."

"Deal," Harry said. A short while later, Harry was engrossed in tales he thought were unimaginable.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Chapter 3

Harry did not show up to work the next day bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. On the contrary; he was bleary-eyed and dragging, having finished an all-nighter on his new laptop. He discovered that reading chapter after chapter on a monitor was not conducive to good health. His head hurt. His eyes hurt. He had developed carpal tunnel syndrome. But he was a trooper, so he put on his robes, grabbed his etch-a-sketch and took his seat in the front of the courtroom.

"Call your next witness, Riker."

Riker had put on a fresh uniform. He'd had a good night's sleep, and was raring to go. "Keeping with the 70's TV show theme, I call Major Sidney Freedman."

Oohs and aahs rang through the courtroom as the eminent military psychiatrist, also known for enjoying practical jokes, took his seat.

"Major Freedman, you are a military psychiatrist, are you not?"

"Yes, Commander Riker. In the Korean theater."

"You've had the opportunity to read the tomes alleged to have caused all this grief?"

"Yes, I have, and I've also been able to talk with the victims."

"I see. First, can you please enlighten us as to the condition of the victims?"

"These poor men will be suffering from PTSD, or Post Traumatic Stress Disorder forever, and it will be debilitating if they don't get some therapy."

"PTSD?" asked Riker. "Isn't that sort of a new acronym?"

Freedman agreed. "Yes, but it has always been around and known by other names; such as battle fatigue and shell shock.

"And Major, what else can you tell me about the victims' assessment of their situation?"

"Well, they understand war is hell, but what they don't understand is why they're being put through all these terrible experiences. They find themselves asking again and again, 'Why? What did we ever do to you?'"

"And," Riker responded. "Do you have the answer to those questions?"

Freedman took a deep breath before answering. "It's hard to say. But the best logical explanation is my 'war is hell' theory."

"Dr. Freedman, can you please clarify that?"

"The authors have taken a comedic situation that has a lot of potential for drama, and well, they've just run away with it. Gone too far, if you will."

"Aha!" Riker addressed the courtroom. "Gone too far! Didn't know when to stop. It's an addiction, and others are suffering for their inability to control themselves!"

Freedman shrugged.

Victoriously, Riker turned the witness over to Perry Mason.

"Doctor Freedman. You claim you read all of these entries to familiarize yourself with the case. Would you say that you became quite disturbed at the graphic descriptions and angst?"

"Definitely."

"Does the screen name Sigmund ring a bell with you, Major?"

"Sort of."

Mason addressed the court. "Our investigations have shown that Dr. Freedman did indeed read all of these sagas, as he said. However, not only did he read them, but he thought it was appropriate to offer his opinions and posted them for all to see. You see, your honor, we traced the screen name Sigmund back to his account. May I familiarize the court with some of these reviews?"

"Ooh," said Harry. "This sounds interesting. Go ahead."

"Very well," said Mason. "I quote; 'You have me on the edge of my seat. This chapter made me cry. Tremendous dramatic impact. You really know your angst. You sure like to put Hogan through the wringer. Great job. I love the way you show relationships. War is hell and you sure know how to show it. It's about time someone showed how nasty the Gestapo was. That's just a sample, Judge."

"Whoa." Harry Stone looked down at Sidney. "You need to get a life."

The psychiatrist's face was turning red from embarrassment. "Can I go now?"

Mason agreed. "No further questions for this witness, your honor."

Sidney slinked out of the courtroom and joined Hawkeye for a drink in the swamp. A large drink.

Riker decided after this debacle that he had no choice. He would have to call Hogan to the stand.

Judge Harry agreed to call a short recess before Colonel Hogan showed up to testify. Riker took this opportunity to beam back up to his ship. He quickly sought out the advice of the ship's counselor, Deanna Troi.

"I sense you're frustrated, and a little concerned, Will."

The two officers were in Ten-Forward commiserating over two hot-fudge sundaes.

"Deanna, I thought I knew my witnesses and could trust them, but they were like putty in the hands of Mason." He shook his head and grabbed Deanna's cherry.

"I sense you're hesitant about calling Hogan to the stand." Deanna actually wanted to meet the famous Colonel Hogan, but thought it best not to mention it.

"He's not the man he once was, Deanna. If you could only see him! He's a shell. He's been tortured so much, he can barely stand. I don't even know if he can handle the testimony."

Deanna took an overly long lick of the hot fudge and looked up at her friend. "Will, I sense your apprehension. But, isn't this why you agreed to take the case? To bring justice to those who are suffering? I think it's important for everyone, especially this judge, to see what has happened to this poor man. Would you like me to beam down with you and meet with this Colonel?" Please?

Will shook his head. "No. Thanks, but you don't need to come. But, you're right. He has to testify."

Darn, Deanna thought.

Murmurs of anticipation swept throughout the courtroom as spectators eagerly awaited the testimony of the prosecution's star witness. This time, Klink, Schultz, Hochstetter and Burkhalter decided to join the rest of the overflow crowd, and, ignoring the sneers and catcalls of the other Stalag 13 characters, took their seats.

Riker stood up in front of the courtroom, and quietly and unhappily called for his next witness. The spectators watched sympathetically as the formerly dashing young Colonel gingerly walked towards the front. He was surrounded by his posse, otherwise known as Kinch, LeBeau, Newkirk and Carter, who were ready to catch him if he should fall. They helped him into the chair, and then stood aside.

Unfortunately, Hogan started to slide down the chair. As quick as you could say, "Sticky wicket," Newkirk and Carter were there to prop him up.

"It's showtime, guv'nor."

"Upsy daisy, Colonel."

LeBeau was cursing in French under his breath and just glared at everyone.

"Um, Colonel Hogan?" Judge Harry was a tad upset. This was not the character he knew and loved. Wow. The man looked like he had been used as a punching bag. "Are you able to understand and answer the questions?"

Hogan gave the judge a glassy-eyed stare. He then managed to draw upon every ounce of strength he had and croaked out an answer.

"I can do it. Fire away. I'm just recovering from gunshots, a coma and some kind of unknown poison that's been knocking me out. Go ahead, I'm okay."

Riker approached Hogan and slowly delivered his first question. "Can you please tell us about your experience as a POW before this fan fiction craze began?"

"We spent most of our time fooling the guards, fooling Klink, fooling other Germans, and basically manipulating everyone and everything around us."

Kinch, LeBeau, Newkirk and Carter proudly nodded in agreement, while Klink and the other Germans looked embarrassed.

"And nothing bad ever happened?"

"Well, that's not entirely true. People did get killed, usually off-screen. But, no, nothing bad ever happened to us." Hogan's voice began to slur and he started to drift off in the chair.

"Pardon-moi!" LeBeau ran over to the chair and waved some smelling salts under Hogan's nose. Hogan began to cough and then opened his eyes. LeBeau looked apologetically at Harry. "It's the morphine, monsieur."

"Oh, brother." Mason was suspicious that this was all an act, although he really couldn't be sure.

Riker approached Hogan and quietly whispered, "You with us, Robert?" Getting an affirmative, he decided to continue.

"So, Colonel, you basically had a relatively easy and amusing time of it for six years, and then decades later entered what I would consider a living hell?"

"Objection!" shouted Mason. "The prosecutor is not qualified to rank heaven, hell or anything in between for that matter."

"Sustained." Harry gave Riker a stern look. "Commander, please let the witness describe his own opinion of hell."

"Excuse me." Hogan was trying to speak. "I would agree with Commander Riker here. It's been a living hell. In fact, every time I think I've managed to escape certain death, something else happens. You don't know how many times I've said, 'Oh no, not again!'"

Riker decided to go for the dramatic effect. "How have you managed to survive, sir?"

Hogan, who by now, was starting to fade away again, whispered, "My wits, the undying loyalty and devotion of my men, and my strength of character, I guess." And with that he passed out.

The courtroom erupted. Wilson had jumped over several benches to again tend to his commanding officer, while Hogan's posse hovered nearby. Riker threw up his hands and took a seat, leaving Judge Stone to pound his gavel in a futile attempt to bring order to the proceedings.

Wilson looked at Harry. "Judge, Colonel Hogan is not capable of continuing at the moment. We need a recess to allow him time to recover."

Harry readily agreed.

"He needs a doctor." Wilson had taken Hogan into the judge's chambers and had settled him down upon Harry's couch. Riker and Harry were both hovering nearby, while LeBeau, Newkirk, Carter and Kinch were left standing by the door; watching as Wilson attempted to get Hogan to drink a glass of water.

"Shall I try and locate that Dr. Pierce?" Bull had joined the crowd.

"I can take him 'up there' with me," said Riker as he glanced at the ceiling.

"Up there?" Hogan's posse had managed to wedge their way into the room. "Where's, 'there?'" LeBeau asked suspiciously.

"To my ship," replied Riker.

Everyone began to talk at once.

"You're not taking him anywhere without me." Kinch stepped between Riker and the Colonel.

"Moi, aussi," said LeBeau.

"Me neither, boy," said Carter.

Newkirk just stared at everyone and attempted to light a cigarette, which was promptly squished by Bull. "No smoking," he whispered.

"Hold it, hold it!" Harry yelled. "I know I'm supposed to be impartial here, but clearly this poor man needs medical assistance."

Riker's opinion of Judge Stone had improved by that point. He tried to reassure Hogan's men. "Hey, remember guys, I'm on your side. I promise we'll take good care of him and he'll be back to testify before you know it."

"I don't know, mate." Newkirk was not happy with the thought of the guv'nor going, "Up there."

"It's just a simple crossover," said Riker. "It's been done hundreds of times, even on your site."

By now, Hogan had regained some of his senses and was attempting to sit up.

Wilson stopped trying to force the glass of water down his throat. "Did you hear that, Colonel? Riker said he could take you to his ship and get you fixed up."

"His ship? Where?" Hogan was confused.

"Up there!" Wilson replied.

"Whatever," said Hogan as he flopped back down on the couch. "I really don't care. I never have anything to say in these matters anyway." He looked at Bull. "Stuff just happens, you know?"

"Good. It's settled, then." Riker hit the weird little button on his uniform. "Two to beam up directly to sickbay." The two men from Night Court and the crew from Hogan's Heroes watched in astonishment as Riker and Hogan shimmered out of sight.

Now, Harry and Bull had never experienced a transporter situation in person, but being Trekkies, they were not unfamiliar with the process; so they took it in stride. Hogan's men; however, were not as cool with the idea of seeing their Colonel's molecules scattered all over space. They panicked. Even Kinch, as level-headed as he was, became perturbed by what he had witnessed. It took several minutes for Harry and Bull to calm the men down and to reassure them that the Colonel was now safely aboard Riker's starship. Harry even brought out his model of the original Enterprise, his Captain Kirk action figure and a tribble to show them.

Dr. Beverly Crusher gazed at the man lying on the diagnostic bed in her sickbay. Fortunately, the Colonel was again totally out of it, and was blissfully unaware of what was going on around him. Having someone from the past land on the Enterprise, even if he was a full Colonel, was not good. There were all those pesky time-travel problems to consider. Seeing the future could easily cause problems in the past. Crusher tried not to think about it. These issues always gave her a headache.

Riker was standing by, patiently waiting for the doctor's assessment. "Well, Doctor. Do you think you can help him? Oh, and whatever you do, it's got to be fast. We have to get back to court."

Crusher shook her head. What a waste. How could someone do this to someone else, on purpose?

"Will, I think I can help him. But, unfortunately, it may only be temporary. You see, there's nothing I can do to prevent these things from happening again. It could happen tomorrow, next week; we just won't know. The only thing I can do at this point is to get him healthy enough to continue with the testimony. Then, hopefully he'll get a bit of a break."

That will have to do. Will thanked the doctor and left her alone with her patient. He found Deanna standing outside the door to sickbay.

"I heard what happened, Will," she said sympathetically. "Is there anything I can do?"

"No, Dr. Crusher's with him. She'll patch him up, at least temporarily."

She nodded. "I have to go in and see Beverly. Captain Picard wanted me nearby in case Colonel Hogan becomes upset or uncooperative."

"I don't think that's going to happen," Riker said. "He's totally out of it. But, go ahead." He moved aside as Deanna entered sickbay. "Let me know when he's ready."

Dr. Crusher looked up as Deanna entered the area. The counselor approached the bed and stood next to Hogan's side. She looked down at the patient and easily noticed the fatigue and trauma showing on his face.

"He's been used as a punching bag," Beverly noted.

"I can sense that," Deanna replied.

"This is going to take a lot more than a band-aid." Beverly was beginning to assemble a nice array of gadgets. "I'd really like to give these people a piece of my mind."

"Perhaps they don't really understand the consequences." Deanna never saw things in black and white. "They may think they have good, logical reasons for doing this, and in their minds they're not doing anything wrong."

Beverly disagreed. "There's never a good reason for torture. Never."

"There's never a good reason to violate the prime directive, Beverly. Or so they say. But it happens."

"All right. Here we go." Beverly stood next to the bed. "Deanna, why don't you stand by? I'm not sure what may happen."

Deanna got closer to the bed and gently caressed Hogan's hand. She could sense that, through his haze, he was aware that he was receiving attention and that finally someone was offering him some real help.

Meanwhile, back "Down there," Hogan's posse was safely ensconced in Harry's chambers, playing with all of his toys. At the same time, Schultz was fraternizing with other prisoners at the pretzel cart, while Klink, Burkhalter, and Hochstetter were engaged in a shouting match in the hallway.

"I never touched that man!" Hochstetter's face was turning beet red as he tried to claim his innocence.

"Oh, Major. How could you?" Klink was, as usual, extremely disturbed at the sight of his stricken senior POW officer.

"Major, it will do you no good to deny these allegations. We have hundreds of readers that will testify to your cruelty." Burkhalter was secretly enjoying the drama. He particularly liked to see Hochstetter squirm.

"But, I'm not the one on trial here." Hochstetter was becoming indignant. "And I wasn't the only one who…"

"Ah, so you do admit you did these horrible things to Colonel Hogan?" Klink's stomach was beginning to hurt as he tried to draw up some much needed backbone.

"Yes, well, maybe. But, I'm really not like that. I was just written that way!"

"Oh, please. Next you'll tell me you were just following orders," Klink said. "And you, General." Klink turned to face Burkhalter. ''You're complicit in this as well, aren't you? Don't deny it. I've read it."

Burkhalter stared at Klink as he if he had seen a ghost. "Klink, how dare you speak to me like that! And where did you suddenly find the gall to challenge your commanding officer?"

Klink began to waver. "Gall. Ha, ha. Challenge. I'm not challenging, General, I'm uh, I must have misread something. If you'll excuse me, gentlemen." Klink dashed away from his stunned colleagues and ran into the nearest men's room.

The Kommandant was grateful that the men's room was empty. He stared at himself in the mirror, and then threw cold water on his face. He was experiencing that feeling again. The feeling that he was he subtly being taken over by multiple personalities. Sometimes he felt like a toad, and other times he felt like the brave soldier that he knew he actually never was, but wanted to be. It was rather disconcerting. Klink never knew when this change would occur. It just happened. But he was beginning to realize that these changes had something to do with Colonel Hogan, angst, and drama.

A/N I'd really like to thank Janet for her terrific beta of this chapter!


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Chapter 4

Order was restored to the courtroom as all participants prepared to return to the case. Harry called Riker over to the bench. "Is Colonel Hogan ready to begin his testimony?"

"Yes, he is, your honor. Bailiff? Could you please tell Colonel Hogan we're ready for him?"

Colonel Hogan entered the courtroom and strode confidently down the aisle. Gasps of amazement could be heard throughout the crowd. This was not the shell of the man they had seen earlier. No, this was the Colonel Hogan, the leader of the most successful sabotage and rescue operation in Nazi Germany.

The Colonel's posse was seated in the front row. There was no need of their assistance for the moment. Sergeant Wilson sat beside them and kept a wary eye on his commanding officer.

Hogan took a seat and patiently waited for the excitement to die down. Judge Harry was the first to speak.

"I see you're looking a little more chipper there, Colonel."

"Yes, I am," he replied, "Thanks to Commander Riker and his crew…'up there.'"

Harry stared at him in amazement, and then said what everyone else must have been thinking. "It's a miracle."

"Technically, no." Riker thought it best to explain. "It took a lot of effort to bring the Colonel back to us. He's essentially been de-fragged, scanned, and cleaned-up. Unfortunately, that wasn't enough. Dr. Crusher was forced to perform a system restore."

"No!" Even Harry, with his lack of computer experience, knew that was drastic. "I hope he was backed up!"

"Yes, he was. Here are Dr. Crusher's notes and files. For the record." Riker handed the judge a data pad. Another one was also given to Perry Mason. "However, there is one thing I should mention; this may only be temporary. We never know when or if there may be another set-back."

"All righty, then. Let's get this thing moving. Riker, ask your questions." Harry picked up his gavel, struck the desk and then took out his Mr. Potato Head to keep his hands busy while he watched.

Riker gave the judge an amused look and then began his questioning. "Colonel, before you passed out, we were discussing your opinion of being trapped in a living hell. You claim you never know when it's going to happen, nor do you understand the reasons behind these actions."

"Somewhat true, Commander."

"What do you mean by that, Colonel?"

"Well, sometimes I have a premonition, a sixth sense that something bad is about to happen or will happen sometime in the story."

"From the description?" asked Riker.

"Oh, is that what it is? Geez, I thought I had ESP!" Hogan laughed. "But, seriously, once it starts, there's nothing, and I mean nothing I can do to prevent it. It just has to play out. And then one of us is in trouble, usually me." Hogan began to play with his crush cap, which he had set on his lap. The memories were clearly beginning to bother him. "I just don't get it. What did we ever do to them? I mean, we're the good guys! You'd think they would treat those nuts even worse." He pointed to the German contingent and gave Hochstetter a particularly nasty stare.

Riker regretted what he had to delve into next, but he knew it was necessary. "Colonel Hogan, you've clearly suffered through tremendous physical pain and mental anguish, but let's not forget the others that have also been hurt; the men under your command. They've all had their moments, their scenes of angst, haven't they? What has that been like for you?"

Hogan looked back at Riker with troubled eyes. "You're a commander. You should understand what that's like."

"Why don't you explain it to the court, Colonel?" Riker gently asked.

"There's nothing worse than seeing your men suffering. Nothing. They can inflict whatever they want to on me, but I wish they'd leave them alone. They could be their sons or brothers, you know. Why are they doing this?"

"Their sons or brothers, Colonel?" This comment struck Riker as rather odd. Should I ask him to explain that comment or drop it? Riker decided to run with it. It seemed to really bother Hogan. "Can you explain what you mean by that comment? How do you know some of these soldiers could be their sons or brothers?"

This question got everyone's attention. The spectators leaned forward so as not to miss the answer. Did the Colonel actually know something about the accused?

Hogan wasn't perturbed. For the first time in a while he felt somewhat healthy, so his mind was actually functioning at full cylinders. He was upset, yes, but still sharp. So he decided to be honest and answer the question. "Some of them dropped in."

You could have cut through the stunned silence with a knife. Harry dropped Mr. Potato Head, and Mason spit out the coffee he had been drinking. Riker, who was not a trained trial attorney, suddenly came to the realization that you never asked your witness a question that you didn't know the answer to. Carter, meanwhile, turned to Newkirk and said, "I was really hoping to forget that experience. Oh, brother."

Riker gulped. "Could you explain that?"

"Let's just say we had a visitation." Hogan had no idea how to explain the phenomenon of writers showing up in camp. All he knew was that it had happened, and yes, some of the writers appeared old enough to be the mothers, or at least the older sisters of some of his men. "Yes, I would call it a visitation. They all dropped in at separate times, and some of them were with us for several months. They didn't know each other personally, but knew each other from the net, or so they said. It was sheer torture for all of us to have them there, in a manner of speaking."

"And did you ever bother to ask them why these horrible things kept happening to you and your men?"

Hogan chuckled. "No, and that's the weird part. When they were there, we didn't have any memory of any of these terrible things happening. So, of course, I didn't ask. But I remember them coming, and I remember afterwards thinking, how could these women write these things? That happened as soon as I found myself buried alive, I think."

"Ooh, that's unpleasant." Harry was riveted, as was everyone else.

Riker continued with the questioning. "And how did they get there, Colonel, and what happened to you and your operation while they were there?"

Hogan would go no further. "I'm sorry, Commander, but I can't answer that. It's classified."

"But, surely in this instance?"

"Commander, come on. It's classified." You'd never believe it anyway.

All of the Hogan's Heroes characters watching in the courtroom breathed a sigh of relief as Hogan steadfastly refused to answer.

It was at this point in the trial that Harry decided to call a recess; which seemed to be fine with everyone. Of course, the first thing the Judge, Mason, and the spectators did was head for a computer. They all wanted to find the story about the writers who somehow "dropped in" on Hogan. This left the courtroom empty except for Riker and the various inhabitants of Hogan's Heroes. Riker approached Hogan and in a tone of exasperation said, "It would have helped if you had told me about this earlier."

Hogan gave Riker his most innocent look. "I'm really sorry, Commander, but to tell you the truth, I forgot. It wasn't until I got…what did they call it? Rebooted or whatever, that I remembered. A lot of other stuff has happened since then, and frankly there's been a lot on my mind. Too much trauma at once, I guess."

Carter sprung to his defense. "He's right, boy. I mean if you only knew what's been going on…assassination attempts, gunshots, kidnapping…it's been insane!"

Riker lost track of where he was for a moment. He knew he had to regain his momentum and create even more sympathy for his "client." The spectators and the judge had returned tothe courtroom and Hogan was now back on the stand. It appeared that, due to its length and innocent sounding description, The Mary Sue Experiments, as Hogan called it, had been overlooked during discovery by everyone involved. Upon seeing the amount of chapters, Harry, who was still in pain from the previous night's computer marathon, decided to bring court back in session and put the story on the back-burner.

I've got it! Riker thought back to Picard's experiences with the Borg. His Captain still suffered from nightmares, flashbacks, and other horrendous side-effects from being assimilated. Whenever that damn episode was repeated on television, Picard would suffer even more. Although Hogan's terrible experiences could not be seen visually, perhaps reading snippets of them out loud would maximize the impact and further remind the judge of the horror. And showing scenes of Hogan and his crew from before fan fiction would also remind the court of the consequences of overzealous writing.

"I would like to draw the court's attention to the screen in front of you." Riker placed a DVD in the player, hit play and stood back. Everyone watched as the opening scene of Hogan's show flashed on screen. Riker hit fast forward and stopped at several other scenes. Chuckles and titters and a few guffaws could be heard throughout the courtroom as Hogan and his crew once again outsmarted the Germans. The Allied soldiers in the audience were clearly enjoying themselves. The Germans, well…not so much! After a few more scenes, Riker removed the DVD. "That, ladies and gentlemen, is how we used to remember these fine characters. Now, I would like to read to you scenes from these fan fiction archives; scenes that, when piled up one by one, may ultimately destroy them."

"Good lord." Kinch was clearly upset.

"Mon dieu. We can't live through this again. I won't allow it." LeBeau stood up and started to head towards the front of the courtroom.

"Sit down!" Harry had spied the French corporal's movement.

LeBeau did not back down. "Monsieur, we can't allow this. It will upset the Colonel. Please."

"Louis, sit down. That's an order." Hogan's voice was enough to quiet LeBeau down. "Let Riker do his job. We can handle it."

Riker spent over an hour reading various scenes from selected fan fiction stories. His acting experience on the Enterprise enhanced his dramatic interpretation. This, of course, made his expressive readings more heart-wrenching, emotional, gut-wrenching, poignant and disturbing. By the time he finished, everyone in the courtroom was an emotional wreck. Schultz, in fact, did not last, and left long before Riker hit the tales published in 2007.

"And I would also like to point out to the court, that not only did these authors continue to publish these tales, but they also honored each other with awards. Yes, ladies and gentlemen. They nominated and voted, and thought it was so funny, that they gave out "Papa Bear Awards." What kind of sick individual would do this, I ask you?"

Klink turned to Burkhalter. "I got an award. Twice!" (1)

"It's sick, Klink. Sick."

"Yes, General. Sick."

"I'm done," said Riker. "The prosecution rests. Your witness, Mason."

 

(1) Werner Klemperer won two Emmys


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Chapter 5

Mason stood up and approached the bench. He turned around and glanced at the spectators; many of whom were wiping tears from their eyes. Several had run out of the courtroom, and Corporal LeBeau had fainted dead away; however, he was being revived by Wilson and his ever-present glass of water. Mason knew he had a hard act to follow; Riker's presentation had swung the momentum back to the prosecution. First, he had to cross-examine Riker's star witness.

"Colonel Hogan?"

Hogan let out a pathetic sigh and looked up at the attorney. The twinkle had disappeared from his eyes. His humor and self-confidence had again taken a beating.

"I'm sorry, but I would like to bring you back again to some of these circumstances. The first thing I would like to address is how you found yourself in these positions in the first place. Isn't it true, Colonel, that you often insisted on going out on many of these missions on your own; thereby placing yourself in these dangerous predicaments?"

"Some of my men went out by themselves and came back injured. We almost lost Carter that way."

"Yes, Colonel, but there were several examples of where you insisted on going out on your own, and ended up hurt. Let's see, you went to meet a contact in another town, got arrested, and almost died. You got shot on a mission, and then almost got tortured to death. And even when you accompanied men on other missions, there were several times that you almost got blown to bits.

"We were planning on blowing up bridges. It took all of us to set the explosives."

Good, he's leading me into the next question. Mason responded, "Is that so? Well then, how can you explain the fact that on your very first sabotage mission, three of your men left you and your explosives man back at camp, and blew up a bridge?"

"He's got a point there, if you think about it." Newkirk mentioned to no one in particular.

Carter threw him a dirty look. "You know the Colonel had his reasons!" Yeah, he thought, that one's still fresh. I think that one writer may have it in for me. First my tonsils, then she or he, (Carter wasn't sure which), got me shot on my way out of Germany.

"Carter couldn't go on that mission; he was hurt," Hogan said. "You see," he emphasized, "He was hurt. And that's another thing; look at the show…I went out all the time! The writers have been following canon." Hogan's adrenalin was beginning to kick in and his spirits rose.

Riker gave the Colonel a thumbs up.

Good comeback. Judge Harry was so engrossed by the testimony at this point that the etch-a-sketch he had brought back with him remained un-etched.

Mason was beginning to become a little unhinged. He was tangling with a master and he knew it. "Colonel, haven't you ever heard of away teams?"

"Objection!" shouted Riker at the top of his lungs. "Not relevant, wrong program, different century - do you want me to continue?"

"Sustained," said the Judge. For some reason, red shirts kept flickering through his head.

"Are you trying the blame the victim, counselor?" This question came from Hogan. "Besides, most of the time, I don't have a choice. Do you know how many times London sends me on these things? Me. Not my men, me. And another thing, the Gestapo keeps dragging me out of camp. It's not always from a mission. They knock me around, and then they dump me back there. Quite a bad cycle, if you ask me. It's the writers, they're the one's responsible."

Mason decided to give up before things got any worse. "Judge, I'm done with Colonel Hogan for now. Permission to recall if necessary?"

"Granted." Harry banged his gavel. "We'll have a short recess and then the defense will begin their side of the case."

Riker came up to Hogan and shook his hand. "You handled yourself very well up there. How are you holding up?"

"Fine, for now. I'll make it." Hogan made his way over to the spectators' benches and greeted his men.

"Great job, guv'nor!"

"We're all proud of you, mon Colonel. Shall we get something to eat?" Louis always made sure his Colonel had enough to eat.

"Yeah," said Hogan. "Let's blow this joint."

Participants and spectators streamed back into the courtroom. They were all still buzzing about that morning's testimony. And what a morning it had been. Hogan and his men were trying to recover from the emotional roller-coaster ride that had been thrust upon them; first by Riker and his readings, and then by the cross-examination by one of history's best trial attorneys. Unfortunately, their entrance to the building was slightly delayed when, by chance, they and their German co-stars all became stuck in the same revolving door. It took several seconds to untangle the mess. They then found themselves all staring at each other in the courthouse lobby.

"Kommandant, General, Major." Hogan offered a courteous and slightly bemused acknowledgement. "Oh, hi, Schultz. I didn't see you back there."

Schultz waved a friendly hello. "It's good to see you feeling better, Colonel Hogan. I don't like to see anyone sick."

Burkhalter was the first officer to find his voice. "I'm finding these proceedings fascinating. Aren't you, Klink?"

"Fascinating, yes, General."

"Revealing is more the word I would use, General." Hochstetter moved closer to Hogan and stopped inches from the Colonel's face. "Some of the evidence I've heard here could be useful."

"In your dreams, Major." Hogan didn't waver, a fact that did not go unnoticed by Klink; who, without realizing it, had started to intuitively reach for his pistol, which unfortunately was not there. Klink quickly withdrew his hand and began to wonder what he had been doing.

That feeling. Klink shook it off.

Kinch moved in to break up the tension. "Colonel, we'd better go. It's getting late." They all headed towards the courtroom.

As they were walking, Schultz gleefully approached LeBeau, pretzel in hand. "Cockroach, you'll never believe where I bought this pretzel! From a roach coach! Ha, ha, ha, ha!"

"Very funny, Schultz. See, I'm not laughing." If looks could kill, thought LeBeau, Schultz would be dead.

Harry stood at the door of his chambers looking out at the courtroom. He had an unsettling feeling that the next part of the proceedings would prove to be even more dramatic than the first. Bull, his loyal bailiff, was conversing with some of the other Stalag 13 prisoners, who for some reason kept falling asleep. The rest of the main participants were lost in their thoughts as they took their seats.

They kill me off one day, and then the next day I'm in command. I feel like a ping-pong ball. Kinch glanced over at Baker, the other radio man. He's had it way too easy. If he only knew.

LeBeau had managed to remain fairly unscathed through this whole mess. Oh, there was that one little gunshot wound, but it wasn't too bad. Still, he felt unsettled. My time is up. It's coming, he thought. Why was I ignored? I mean in a way, it's good, I guess…no, they won't forget, they never do. I'm next.

Carter was just plain paranoid. He seemed to be ripe for the picking, and now he was starting to feel sick and feverish. If it isn't the Colonel, it's me. Or, at least that's how he looked at it. I wish that nice MASH doctor would finish fixing me up. Carter was afraid he would lose control. Memories were returning and they were not pleasant.

I really need a cigarette. Newkirk grabbed a stick of gum to chew and then sat down in between Carter and LeBeau.

Hogan kept a watchful eye over his men and their enemies, while he patiently waited for the next round.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6: Chapter 6

Harry had given up on his etch-a-sketch and instead had returned with a Rubik's cube. He doubted he would have time to figure it out, but at least he would be able to keep his hands busy. "All right, Mr. Mason. Let's get this show on the road."

Perry Mason stood up in front of the room and addressed the judge. "I would like to call Major Hans Teppel as my first witness, your honor."

Major Teppel was an American spy who had infiltrated the Abwehr. For some reason, he made Robert Hogan very nervous. Although Teppel had been able to help out the heroes when they got into trouble, Hogan felt the guy was a ticking time bomb, and he did not want to be near him when he went off. But, why would he be called for the defense? Hogan and his men looked at each other in confusion.

Teppel, aka Robert Morrison, wasn't sure why he was called for the defense, either. He liked Hogan and was outraged at the treatment that his friend, and the men who worked for him, had been forced to suffer. Well, if he could handle his day job as a spy, he could certainly handle this.

Mason began his questioning. "Major Hans Teppel. That is not your real name, is it, sir?"

"No counselor. It's Robert Morrison, from Milwaukee."

"Can you please explain the subterfuge?"

"I moved to Germany in the '30's, with the express purpose of infiltrating the Abwehr."

Harry turned to Bull. "His life insurance premiums must be sky-high!" Bull nodded in agreement.

Harry then quickly spied something out the corner of his eye. It was Major Hochstetter frantically trying to dial out on someone's cell phone. "Confiscate that phone! Please people, show some decorum. I'm sorry, Mr. Mason. Please continue."

"Thank you, Judge."

"I understand you have worked on missions with the alleged victims?"

Morrison answered. "Yes, I first met Colonel Hogan at the POW camp. I purposely went there to engage his help on a mission in Berlin, which was successful, by the way." He looked over at Hogan who was trying hard not to remember the abject terror Morrison had put him through.

"I see." Mason continued. "Major, would you say that you have some familiarity with the missions detailed on this fan fiction site?"

"Yes," he replied.

"Why is that, sir?"

Morrison was a little hesitant to answer this question. "I am familiar with all of the missions because I've sort of been assigned to, well, keep an eye on things."

"What?" Finally, Newkirk had something to say.

"He's babysitting us?" Kinch was slightly bothered by this tidbit of information.

"You'd think maybe he could have stopped some of these scenarios before things got out of hand!" LeBeau was outraged.

"Hang on, guys, let's see where this is going." Hogan was not too happy with this information. He felt a bit out of the loop. Obviously, London knew what was going on here, and was not being totally forthright.

Mason glanced at his notes, and then returned to his questioning. "Let's put aside, for now, the horrendous scenes and details we were focusing on earlier, and look at what else has befallen these men. Mr. Morrison, would you say that all of these tales are malicious, or filled with angst and tragedy?"

"No," Morrison said. "I would have to say, no."

"I think not." Mason chuckled. "After all, there are over six hundred of them on there. Perhaps you could be so kind as to use your knowledge and familiarity with these missions to describe some of them for us? Some of the kinder and gentler undertakings."

"Well," Morrison had to think. "We've had some odd situations, such as; love, family reunions, snowball fights, animal mishaps, dealings with bureaucracy, diaries, ghost stories, lots of holiday themes, differing points of view, mysteries, neat crossovers, time-travel, explanations of continuity errors, beginnings and endings; you name it. Oh, and lots of good action."

"So," Mason asked, "The vast majority of these tales have done no harm to these men, have they? In fact, wouldn't it be fair to say that some of the tales have probably given them great satisfaction, and even some much-needed humor?"

"Yes," replied Teppel, "But, they don't make up for…"

"Thank you, sir." Mason stopped Morrison before he could finish his answer. "Now, I'd like to address another issue; history. In your assignment, have you discovered that certain writers have taken it upon themselves to, not only spin a good yarn, but to also educate the readers? Offer them insight into what actually happened during the war, how prison camps may have been run, and deliver history lessons along with their entertainment?"

"I would agree with that assessment." Morrison did appreciate those footnotes.

"If I needed a history lesson, I could have gone to the bloomin' library," Newkirk observed.

"This Mason guy is getting on my nerves." LeBeau never had time to read. He was always too busy cooking. Besides, who was interested in history when you were living it? He glanced over at Carter, who had given up and collapsed on the bench. LeBeau shook his head, wet a handkerchief, and started to try and cool Carter down.

Both Kinch and Hogan, on the other hand, were listening intently. They were trying to figure out a way to use these footnotes and historical records to the team's advantage. Hogan motioned for Baker to come over and quietly issued a few instructions. Baker nodded and left.

Klink was listening to the testimony with one ear, and trying to tune out Burkhalter with the other. He was furiously trying to pay attention, while Burkhalter was quietly berating him for not giving a closer look at the author's notes in their profiles, and at the beginning and end of the stories.

Mason was pleased with his first defense witness. Even though Morrison could be considered "hostile," the man was being honest with his answers. "So, Mr. Morrison, we have now determined that, in fact, a large majority of these tales are benign, and they fulfill an educational purpose. That would include some of the tales whose passages were read during Commander Riker's stirring acting display."

Teppel was angry. This was not fair. His men, and he felt that he bore some responsibility for these spies and saboteurs, were suffering.

"Mr. Mason, these characters are paying a price for these history lessons."

"War is hell, Mr. Morrison. Your witness, Commander Riker."

Riker was literally chomping at the bit during Mason's examination. He couldn't wait for his chance to cross-examine this Major, spy or whatever he was. Obviously, the man was uncomfortable with his role as a defense witness, and Riker felt he could use that to his advantage.

"Mr. Morrison, Mr. Mason brought up some of these historical situations. Many of these history lessons, as he liked to call them, occurred during some of the most intense, horrific and frightening scenes ever seen on this site. Those would be some of the prequels, I believe. The ones we discussed earlier during my readings."

"Yes, unfortunately."

Oh, God, no. Don't go there again. Hogan's face began to turn a deathly shade of white. Kinch looked at him with concern.

"Do you think the readers could have received a well-rounded education without having these characters subjected to such angst?" asked Riker.

"I would have told them to watch the History Channel, Commander."

"Thank you, Mr. Morrison. You've played a direct part in various rescue operations, haven't you?"

"Yes, several." Morrison glanced over at the spectators, and observed a disquieting change in demeanor amongst the heroes.

Now Hogan was beginning to turn green. Not only that, but he began to realize that his breathing was again becoming a little labored. "Sir, do you want to step out and get some air?" Kinch was keeping a watchful eye on Hogan, and was beginning to think that they would all be better off waiting at the Stalag. Hogan took a few shallow breaths and tried to refocus.

"No, I'm staying. Have to see this through. Oh, and go wake up those guys." Half of the prisoners in their cheering section were constantly dozing off.

"Mr. Morrison? Could you give us an idea of the condition of the poor soul or souls who needed rescuing?"

Morrison looked back up at Riker and answered the question. "Half-dead, I would say. Near-dead, maybe. One time, really dead, but not actually."

"And, what would have happened, say, if you hadn't been there, or been written in?" Riker, too, had taken notice of the changes occurring over at the spectator's benches.

"Totally dead, Commander. And may I add something?"

"Sure, go ahead, " Riker replied.

"These rescue operations aren't easy; they take a lot of planning, first of all. Plus, there's a risk when these guys call me. I can be exposed. They can be exposed. We often involve other operatives. I won't name any names, but they are in extreme danger. Anytime we, or any of these guys, go into a Gestapo building or anywhere else, there's a chance of being recognized. Only God knows how that hasn't happened yet. We've had to involve doctors, which puts them in danger. And then there's the emotional toll. Not pretty, none of it."

Wow. Harry was pretty impressed by this guy. He wondered if he had survived the war.

So much for your defense witness. Riker was elated. Score one for Starfleet.

"Ten minute recess." Harry again banged his gavel.

A concerned Morrison left the witness stand and walked over to the side of room where Hogan and his posse were seated. Wilson had left to find some penicillin for Carter, and Hogan was now breathing in oxygen from a mask brought over by some concerned security guards. While the hearing seemed to be going well, the side effects were again beginning to take a toll on everyone. In addition to Hogan and Carter's problems, Schultz was sore, Klink was beginning to have pain coursing throughout his body, and Hochstetter kept seeing odd lights flashing in front of him. Only Burkhalter seemed to be immune to the strange symptoms.

Hogan saw Morrison approaching and removed his mask. "First, thanks for your help up there."

"I did what I could. Is there anything I can do for you guys? Can I get you something?"

"Yeah, Morrison," coughed Hogan. "An explanation. You've been watching? London's orders?"

"It's amazing how you guys always manage to get a hold of me, don't you think?" replied Morrison.

Newkirk was still seething. "London's orders? Don't they realize what's been going on? Look at them! Hey, Olsen! Wake up." He slapped Olsen across the face.

Morrison looked serious. "London knows, but unfortunately, their hands are tied. They don't have the codes. We can't change anything. Unless something happens here and this goes to trial, you have to let everything play out. Or find the codes."

LeBeau came right to the point. "We're all going to die."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7: Chapter 7

"I'll put a ring of steel around this courthouse if I have to!" Hochstetter's attempt to alert Berlin about Morrison's act was thwarted by Harry's eagle eye. He had been caught red-handed, and was now figuring out a way to sneak out of the building and get back to his office.

"Major, you can't leave." Klink had somehow suspected that Teppel was not who he appeared to be. He just couldn't put his finger on what prompted him to think that. Actually, he didn't really care. As long as his prison camp was running efficiently and Hogan was there to keep everyone out of trouble, he was satisfied. Hogan's disappearances were beginning to take a toll on Klink. Prisoners would get restless, and sometimes riotous. Hogan would come back sick or worse, and the cycle would start all over again. Yes, Klink was stressed, and now that man, Hochstetter, was threatening to upset the apple cart and try to arrest Teppel or Morrison or whatever his name was.

Klink stood up and blocked Hochstetter's exit. "Major, I said you can't leave."

"Klink, step aside." Hochstetter was surprised at Klink's audacity. Burkhalter, meanwhile, watched in amusement.

"Major, we are at a court and we may be called as witnesses. We've been told we can't leave. I suggest you sit back down."

"Klink, what do you think you are doing? You can't tell the Gestapo what to do. Step aside."

Klink smiled at Hochstetter and calmly said, "Hochstetter, you are a major and I am a colonel. Sit down."

Other spectators, including some of the prisoners, had been witnessing this exchange. Several of the prisoners moved towards Klink and Hochstetter, planning, if need be, to stop him from leaving.

"Don't try it, Major." Olsen, who was now wide awake, stood his ground.

"Bah!" Hochstetter looked around and backed down.

"You know, Major," Olsen wasn't done. "You've almost killed Colonel Hogan several times. I'd be careful if I were you."

Schultz wisely stepped in. "Please, Sergeant Olsen. Don't make things worse for yourself. You could be in trouble when we get back to camp. We'll handle things on our end. Why don't you sit on your side of the courtroom? Like a wedding. We're the bride's side; you're the groom's side. Go."

The crowd dissipated and waited for the hearing to resume.

Harry returned to his chambers during the recess, and was surprised to find an old colleague waiting for him. Dan Fielding was seated comfortably in Harry's chair, his feet up on the desk.

Annoyed, Harry asked, "Dan? What are you doing here?"

"Oh, hi, Harry. I heard you had an interesting case. Thought I'd come and check it out. Get a look at the defendants, offer my opinion, you know what I mean?"

Harry knew darn well what Fielding meant. He was probably here to check out the defendants. Guess he doesn't realize they can't make an appearance.

"Dan, I'm perfectly capable of deciding the outcome of this hearing on my own. Oh, and the defendants aren't coming, and get your feet off my desk!"

Dan quickly removed his feet. "Not coming? Why?"

"Ask the court reporter. I've got to go. You can sit in the back and watch if you want." Harry headed for his door.

Dan thought about the possibilities. He had heard rumors that this case may break new legal ground. No, he decided. He would go back to work prosecuting petty crooks. Not interested. 

Mason returned to the courtroom after a quick meeting with his secretary, Della Street.

"I've heard rumors that your case isn't going too well, Perry."

"I've got some tricks up my sleeve." He replied. "It's not over 'til it's over."

"I would like to call my next witness, Doctor Klaus." An older German gentleman entered the courtroom and walked to the stand. He appeared somewhat hesitant and slightly confused. He offered a distinguished nod to Klink as a sign of recognition, and a slight shudder upon spying Hogan and Newkirk.

"Blimey! It's that Doctor from the hospital in Hammelburg, Colonel! The Eskimo expert!"

"Huh?" Hogan straightened up and got a good look at the physician. He chuckled at the memory of his catastrophic and fake Eskimo disease.

"I bet he remembers you. Look at his face." LeBeau had left Carter in Wilson's hands and was now back with Newkirk and Hogan.

"Can't do anything about it now." Hogan grabbed his oxygen mask, sat back and waited for the fireworks to continue.

Mason had grabbed the only canon doctor he could find to testify. It was the best he could do, and still comply with the thorny copyright issues. He did agree with Riker on that one issue. It was unfortunate; however, because there was this one doctor in particular…He brought himself back to reality and fired off his first question.

"Doctor, how do you know Colonel Hogan?"

"Kommandant Klink was injured in a motorcycle accident. Colonel Hogan was at the hospital visiting, and later showed up in my office showing symptoms of what I thought was a rare disease. I had him hospitalized." (1)

"Other than this rare disease, Doctor, how would you describe Colonel Hogan's physical condition?"

"Excellent," the doctor replied, "In extraordinarily good condition, despite the fact that the man was a POW. Oh, and he faked the illness."

"That plot device is not an issue in this case, Doctor." Mason had spoken with the physician earlier, and had to make sure he was capable of overlooking this humiliation. "I called you because, as a physician, you've had access to Colonel Hogan's other treatment records, and also because, as a physician, you are capable of analyzing these records."

"That is correct, Mr. Mason."

"Great." Mason walked back to the defense table and removed a stack of files.

"Judge, the defense is not denying that physical harm was done to Colonel Hogan, but we would like to point out that in many of these circumstances he received appropriate medical care." He turned back to the witness and handed him a list. "Doctor, can you describe these hospitalizations?"

"Yes. His hospitalizations began after he was shot down. In one instance, a minor leg wound was treated, and Hogan was eventually released; after he was caught escaping numerous times. The second time he was shot down; he had been critically injured by flak and shrapnel, but German physicians performed surgery and saved his life. One of our own Generals, General Biedenbender, intervened to make sure he received the best possible care. There are later cases as well. Colonel Hogan was hospitalized in Dusselfdorf after an unpleasant experience with an overzealous Gestapo agent. He had been severely tortured, and received exemplary hospital care, until he mysteriously disappeared. Colonel Hogan recently spent weeks in the hospital in Hammelburg after being tragically shot, twice. He again received exemplary care, and survived tremendous blood loss and a coma. In addition, Colonel Hogan had been treated after being severely injured in a tunnel explosion. The records are all here, Mr. Mason, and I would like to point out that we picked up the tab. These treatments are not covered by Blue-Cross."

"That's not really relevant to this case, Doctor," said Mason, "But thank you for your observation. So, would you agree that, despite what happened to the Colonel and these other characters, the writers always had medical intervention available and handy?"

"Yes, the other characters and the Colonel received proper medical treatment, including treatment from Hammelburg doctors that were called out to the camp."

Mason paused, looked at the spectators and then returned to the witness. "You say physicians were called out to the camp? In full cooperation with the authorities?"

The Doctor pulled out another list. "Yes, we have those records here. The authorities were given reports whenever medical treatment was needed at one of the prison camps."

"Can you give us some of these details, Doctor?"

"A town doctor was called to the camp to treat Colonel Hogan after a nasty altercation with Major Hochstetter." The doctor looked over at the Gestapo officer and gave him a cold stare. "A town doctor was called to the infirmary to treat a Sergeant Carter when he was left for dead after a "nasty beating" from some civilians. Another doctor treated Colonel Hogan in his barracks after he was injured by an explosion that the men set. This doctor was called in by Colonel Klink, who thought Hogan was hurt in a fight." The doctor stopped reading and looked up at Mason.

"Thank you, Doctor. So, again we see the concern these writers have for their characters. They did not actually leave them to suffer, did they?"

"No, they did not," replied Klaus.

"Thank you, Doctor." Mason was finished with his questioning. He turned the witness over to Riker.

Mason was not the only litigator with access to files. Riker had managed to appropriate Colonel Hogan's records from Klink's office. They weighed a ton. He grabbed them off of his table and plopped them down in front of Harry.

"Judge, either the hospital records this doctor was using to describe Colonel Hogan's treatments are not complete, or the witness is conveniently leaving out some details."

Harry had been relieved to hear that the characters weren't left to die. At least there had been some humanity present. But, more details? Interesting.

"And what would those details be, Commander Riker?" asked Harry.

"Colonel Hogan had further treatment in another hospital, didn't he Doctor Klaus?"

"I don't know about that treatment," the Doctor replied. "It wasn't done in our area."

"Yes, but the records are here. The records we subpoenaed from Klink's office." Riker pointed to the files.

"Then perhaps you should ask Colonel Klink about those records, Mr. Riker." Doctor Klaus was still suffering from his humiliation on the part of Hogan, his crew, and the fake Eskimo illness. He had taken a lot of ribbing from colleagues, and oh, those reports! He had no love for the American.

"I'm afraid you are lying, Doctor. After all, you were able to provide us information about the Colonel's treatment after he was shot down."

"Objection," stated Mason."He's badgering the witness."

"I'll let the question stand," said Harry. "The doctor did have that information. Doctor Klaus, answer the question."

Klaus looked over at Burkhalter and Hochstetter. Burkhalter's lip was beginning to sweat and Hochstetter was tearing a piece of paper into shreds. Klink started to slink down into his seat.

"Doctor?" Riker asked. "Do you recall what happened in the episode after you misdiagnosed Colonel Hogan? Perhaps your gullibility was responsible? I can remind everyone," and then Riker glanced over at the Germans, "if you like."

Klaus whispered, "Yes, there was another hospital visit."

Klink turned to Burkhalter and quietly announced, "We're in big trouble." Klink had read the records over cups of hot cocoa, and had been disgusted and appalled.

"Not we, Klink," Burkhalter said. "You're in big trouble. Why didn't you destroy those records? Hogan doesn't even remember half of what went on."

Klink sputtered. "We're supposed to keep records."

Riker glared at Klaus. "I'll spell it out for you, Doctor. After enduring beatings, sleep deprivation, starvation, flogging, and other forms of torture, our poor Colonel here was subjected to medical experiments at a hospital by other physicians. Isn't that correct, Doctor?"

"Yes, I'm afraid so."

The entire courtroom, Harry and Bull included, looked over to the prisoner's side of the courtroom. The tension between the prisoners and the Germans was now so thick that Harry was afraid a fight would break out at any moment. He could sense that the prisoners' protectiveness and outrage on behalf of their commanding officer was beginning to surface. Hogan, too, was concerned. He would deal with his memories later, but for now he had to de-escalate the situation. He threw a look towards his men that said, "Stand down."

Riker decided this was a good time to wrap things up. "So, you see Judge, not all of the medical treatment was beneficial. First, the defendants deliberately caused injuries that required the treatment in the first place, and then they took the Hippocratic Oath and turned it upside down."

"Are you done, Commander?" Harry was tired, and thought he and everyone else needed a break. He also needed to separate the Allies from the Germans.

Riker was finished with the German doctor.

"Good," said Harry. "We'll break for the weekend and resume first thing Monday morning." He banged his gavel and then retired to his chambers.

 

(1) "Up in Klink's Room"


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8: Chapter 8

Harry walked over to the bookcase behind his desk, chose an album and placed it on one of the few working turntables left in New York. He sat down and sighed in contentment. Mel Torme never failed to relax the judge. He wondered if there were any legal precedents he could rely upon when it came time to decide this case. Harry was fair and impartial, but he did have one specific concern. If he decided to recommend that the defendants be brought up on charges, how would they be punished if they were found guilty? Financial compensation for injuries? Incarceration? A little hard to enforce when different planes of existence were an issue. He would be conducting legal research all weekend.

Klink had sent Schultz and the prisoners back to Stalag 13. He now found himself seated uncomfortably in front of General Burkhalter's desk. Unfortunately for Klink, General Burkhalter and Major Hochstetter were also in the room.

"Klink, find another chair. You're sitting on top of my bug." Hochstetter was pacing back and forth. Klink switched seats.

"Gentlemen, we may find ourselves in hot water when this continues on Monday. I've been called to testify." Burkhalter was seated behind his desk, calmly smoking a cigar.

Hochstetter stopped his pacing and strode towards the desk. "And why should you be concerned, General? Do you have something you wish to hide from the Gestapo?"

I may or I may not, thought Burkhalter. I wish I could be sure.

"I know too much about these medical experiments," Burkhalter replied. "If more of this gets out, I'll hang for war crimes." He looked at Klink. "Perhaps you'd like to join me, Klink?"

Klink was now on the verge of crying. He was in the presence of two of his least favorite people. He actually preferred dealing with the prisoners; particularly Hogan. They seemed so much more…what was the word? Civilized.

"I don't know what you're talking about, General Burkhalter. I did my duty. No escapes. Kept Hogan in line." Klink let out a fake laugh.

Hochstetter looked at Klink with disdain. "Klink, you're a menace to the Third Reich. You and Hogan."

"Perhaps, instead of fighting amongst ourselves, we should look at the big picture," said Burkhalter. "In this case, who is the enemy here?"

"The Americans, the British?" Klink asked.

Hochstetter grimaced. "No, Klink. The defendants in the trial."

"Oh yes, the defendants." Klink looked at Burkhalter. "Where do they come in, and what does that have to do with us, General?"

How did this man get to be a Colonel? Burkhalter could never figure that out. "Klink, these people have caused us trouble. If we can stop them, we'll be out of harm's way."

Schultz safely saw all of the prisoners back to Stalag 13. He made sure they made it back to their barracks, and reminded them not to try any monkey business over the weekend. Carter had perked up a bit after a dose of penicillin, and Hogan had managed, as he had many times in the past, to temporarily store away his horrible memories. He was tired and was still suffering from breathing problems, but there were more pressing matters to deal with at the moment. They were all sitting at the table waiting for Baker's report.

Baker had easily snuck out of the courtroom and made it back to the Stalag with no problems. He and several other men were working on the assignment Hogan had issued back at the hearing.

"Okay, Baker. What did you find?"

"Sir, we investigated all of the footnotes and historical records as you requested." Baker was rubbing his eyes; he really preferred reading paper and wondered how people in the future managed with these monitors.

"First, this is interesting. Italy switched sides."

LeBeau laughed. "Someone should tell Bonacelli!"

Baker continued. "We found out some interesting information about D-Day, sir, as well as Patton's army and liberation. Hitler committed suicide, Berlin fell to the Russians, and a lot of Nazis fled to South America. There's more." Baker handed Hogan his notes.

"Anything about the Manhattan Project?"

"No, sir. Nothing."

Hogan was disappointed. This mysterious project almost cost Hogan the operation and his life. (1) He glanced at Baker's notes. Hogan decided to keep some of the future details to himself; knowing dates and outcomes was too heavy a burden, and he would have to carry the load. However, some of the historical records could prove beneficial to their operation.

Newkirk was finally enjoying his much-needed nicotine fix. "I wouldn't be surprised if the other side is doing the same thing, sir."

"Well, if they are, Newkirk, at least we got a head start." Hogan ordered Baker to transmit the information to London. "Oh, and Baker? Tell London I'm requesting priority status for those codes."

Riker returned to the ship for the weekend and resumed his duties as First Officer. He spent his free time preparing for the cross-examination of defense witnesses that would resume on Monday. Riker was taking an educated guess that Mason would be calling Burkhalter, and perhaps Klink to the stand. Fortunately, technology was at his disposal, and he found it easy to pin down useful items in the fan fiction site. He also had one other ace in the hole; Commander Data.

"Any luck on those codes, Data?"

Data had been following the case. He was somewhat curious as to what the hullabaloo was about. After all, these were fictional characters. But then, he himself had been put on trial, killed off in a movie, almost been assimilated, lost his head in the past, and realized that, yes, it had been somewhat off-putting to be 'abused' as a character. He decided to turn on his emotion chip when downloading the stories from the site, and then he just as quickly shut the thing off.

"Yes. It took me 5 minutes and 23 seconds to break all of the codes, sir."

Riker smiled.

Burkhalter, Hochstetter and Klink had fortunately forgotten the possibility of garnishing useful historical information from the site. They were too focused on preventing their own abuse at the hands of the defendants. In addition, Klink was not the only one questioning his own character development. Burkhalter, while appearing outwardly calm and composed, was experiencing peculiar feelings now and then. Feelings of protectiveness towards the Allies were waging a battle with his loyalty to the Third Reich, and his interest in Colonel Hogan in particular.

Hochstetter, on the other hand, remained true to form. He had conveniently recalled that he was an expert cryptologist, and he was now frantically trying to break some code that Burkhalter had realized may be crucial to stopping the tidal wave of stories, which now numbered over 600. Reams of paper were scattered all over the office. He really wished there was some way he could jump over time and space and just arrest everyone.

The three men decided to call it a night. Burkhalter ordered Hochstetter to keep working on the codes, and he advised Klink to keep a close eye on the prisoners over the weekend.

Mason called a dinner meeting in his office in order to discuss the progress of the case with his associates. Some of them had been trapped on their laptops, pouring over every sentence on the fan fiction site. Others had been stuck in the law library, or searching electronic legal research sites for precedents and other issues regarding freedom of speech, internet safety, internet censorship and anything else they could think of. Law students were researching temporal anomalies, science fiction, and PTSD. And his grandchildren had been assigned the task of watching all 168 Hogan's Heroes episodes on DVD.

One sharp associate had caught something of interest on another fan fiction site, and had quickly brought it to Mason's attention. It appeared that a story had disappeared, and various fans had been frantically attempting to retrieve it. Mason ordered the associate to authorize a computer expert to track down the missing story and bring it in as soon as it was found. Another associate had discovered interesting information about General Burkhalter that could impact Mason's questioning. This information was a concern, Mason decided. Riker had also most likely discovered this, and he could use it to his advantage. In Mason's view, this whole fiasco was beginning to resemble a freedom of speech issue. In addition, the characters bounced back, and he felt he had evidence that they weren't really harmed. Otherwise, he could almost feel sorry for them.

The next morning, Hogan and his men found themselves sitting around the familiar table in the common room of their hut. Fortunately, there had been no bombing raids and no downed fliers to rescue. Again, the conversation turned towards the hearing and what Mason might have up his sleeve. No one brought up any of the past. Hogan, meanwhile, was antsy, and a little concerned. He was beginning to feel a premonition that something really bad was about to happen. He couldn't pinpoint what, or when. He just knew that feeling.

"Why are we here?" Carter broke the silence.

Everyone looked up. Newkirk gave Carter one of his exasperated looks. "Rescue downed fliers, create havoc, disrupt the German war machine. Why do you think we're here?"

"No," Carter patiently replied. "I know what we are doing here, but why are we here. How did we get here? It's been nagging me."

"We were all shot down Carter." Kinch looked at Carter as if the Sergeant had gone off the deep end.

"I've been here the longest," said LeBeau. "And frankly, I'm getting sick of it."

"I'm right behind you, mate."

"I thought we all met on the train," said Carter.

"The train?" This was said in unison.

"Yeah, don't you remember? We all met on the train. We were all there. The Colonel was there. Newkirk, you got that note from the underground agent. The one that got killed."

"Wait a minute," said LeBeau. "That sounds familiar."

"That's right, Carter." Olsen chimed in. "Kinch and I came with Colonel Hogan. We were on his plane."

"Whoa," said Hogan. "I was shot down by myself. We went over that in the hearing."

"The Colonel's right," Newkirk agreed. "He came in after us. Remember the state he was in? Could barely stand up. Except, Carter, you came in later."

"No, that's not right." Kinch was now a bit confused. "The Colonel was sent in by London. The mission was set and I was his contact. Newkirk was here and then LeBeau came in, and then Carter got dropped."

"I thought you guys met in London, were trained, and then were sent in." This observation came from one of the unnamed soldiers on one of the top bunks.

Hogan was quickly developing a headache. "Wait. I got shot down, I suffered unimaginable torture. I got here, and you were all here; except Carter, and that's final. Got it?"

The whole barracks mumbled, "Yes." There were a few, "Uh huhs."

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, sir!"

Great, just great, Hogan thought. First we get pummeled, and now they're hitting our memories.

Hogan stood up, left the table and headed for his office. "This has got to stop," he said to no one in particular. After entering the office, he quickly realized he was having trouble remembering where he was from. Seeing his bunk, he decided to hop up to the top, and bury himself under the blanket while waiting for the next shoe to drop.

Out in the common room, another one of the unnamed soldiers from one of the top bunks was beginning to cry.

"What in heaven's name is your problem?" LeBeau asked.

"I think I was always here. I can't remember anyplace else."


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9: Chapter 9

Judge Harry and Bull stared at the ragtag group of WW2 service men that staggered back into court that Monday morning. Hogan was now using an inhaler. Carter was still feeling feverish and was now taking a stronger antibiotic, and unfortunately, LeBeau was beginning to come down with what everyone hoped was just indigestion. Newkirk, Kinch and Olsen were left to hold the prisoners in check, while Baker was back in camp manning the radio.

"Rough weekend, fellas?" Harry had wanted to replace his Rubik's cube with a set of magic handcuffs, but wisely left them at home.

"I would like to report that all parties are present and accounted for, Judge." Schultz appeared to be the only member of the group that was half awake.

"That's nice, Sergeant Schultz, thank you. Bull?" Harry turned to the bailiff.

Bull loved this part of his job.

"All rise. This court is now in session. Judge Harry Stone presiding. Case number 0876707, Sergeant Andrew J. Carter et al vs. Those who cannot be named."

"Please be seated." Harry looked over at Perry Mason. "Counselor, are you ready to continue with your next witness?"

"Yes, I am. The defense would like to call General Albert Burkhalter to the stand."

A general! This caught the interest of the press.

Burkhalter was not feeling up to par this morning. Spending time over the weekend with both Klink and Hochstetter had placed him in a rotten mood. He was also terrified of spilling something on the witness stand. What, he did not know, but he was sure that Mason or Riker might drag secrets out of him. Yes, his position within the Third Reich was such, that he knew a lot of secrets. This was shaping up to be a most unpleasant start to the work week.

Mason began with the boring details; name, rank, responsibilities. Once those formalities were taken care of, he began questioning the general.

"General, in your position, would you have been aware of certain disappearances or deaths of crucial personnel, as well as the destruction of various institutions in your area?"

Where was this going? Burkhalter thought. "Yes, I was made aware of these activities."

"I thought so, General. Could you give me a brief summary of some of these circumstances? Those that occurred during the time frame in question. That would be when the stories were published on that site."

Burkhalter began to relax. He had a notion of Mason's objective. "Yes, I can. We had an agent disappear after a beating; a beating given in revenge, I believe. Major Hochstetter over there has been eliminated several times; also, I believe, for revenge. Other SS and Gestapo agents have disappeared or have been killed. I sent some maniac off to the Russian Front myself, and I was kidnapped and held against my will. Several installations, including a barn, I believe, were destroyed. There's more, I'm sure.

Hochstetter whispered to Klink. "You see, Klink. He's talking about me. I've suffered. Bah!" Then he started to shiver. "Klink, is it me or is it cold in here?"

"It's you, Major."

Mason continued with his questioning. "Would you say, General , that the victims of these crimes may have been instigators, themselves? Or, to put in another way, would they have, perhaps, inflicted pain and suffering upon the prisoners?"

"I'm with the Luftwaffe, counselor. We follow the Geneva Convention."

"Yes, I'm sure you do, General." Mason stopped as Hogan laughed and then coughed. "Please answer the question."

"I don't know what they had against me, but yes, in those other circumstances, I would agree that these "victims" were actually instigators."

"So, you would agree that these people were punished for their crimes? That they received retribution?"

"I agree."

"The writers have made these other characters pay for their actions. And yes, there's more." Mason then turned to Harry and said, "Judge, if you'll read the brief, you'll see where these characters have been severely punished, and I'm not just talking about a one-way trip to London."

Oh, boy. We could be in trouble if we didn't cover our tracks. Hogan looked at his men, most of whom appeared somewhat nervous. Olsen was one. He had been directly involved in the destruction of the barn. Kinch had ordered the bombing of Gestapo headquarters, and had felt partially responsible for the killing of Hochstetter by the Underground.

"And now, General, I'm going to change the subject. The writers used you to help prevent certain things from happening. Would you say that your intervention may have saved Hogan's life?"

Burkhalter looked over at Hogan and then back at Mason. Hogan edged forward in his seat.

"I was directly responsible for sending Colonel Hogan to Stalag 13."

"How, and why?" Mason asked.

"I felt that, due to Hogan's position in the Army Air Corp, his refusal to answer questions, his survival after months of bad treatment, and his mouth, that it would be best to transfer him to a place where he would not and could not cause trouble. Otherwise, he would have most likely been killed, or died in an unpleasant manner."

Newkirk was outraged. "Bad treatment, that's what he called it?"

Kinch agreed. "That's an understatement."

"I'd like to give him a piece of my mind." Carter actually wanted to send the general an explosing pen, but thought the Colonel would frown on assassination at this point.

"Did you know this, Colonel?" This question came from LeBeau, whose stomach ache had now settled in the lower right quadrant of his abdomen.

Hogan murmured, "So I've been told."

Mason asked General Burkhalter a follow-up question.

"Why Stalag 13, in particular?"

"Even then, for some unknown reason, the camp had a good reputation. But, I sent Hogan there because, as the only officer in an NCO camp, he would be responsible for all of those men. In other words, Hogan had a new command." Burkhalter of course, wouldn't divulge the fact that since Hogan had settled in at Stalag 13, odd things began happening at the camp and in the surrounding area. He was sure Hogan was directly responsible for these events, as well as Klink's perfect no-escape record. Let Hochstetter deal with it.

Klink was positively beaming. He was chosen specifically to handle this confident, high-level American officer, and, not only had he done so, but his no-escape record was still intact. And Hogan, by some miracle, was still alive.

The prisoners were experiencing mixed feelings. On one hand, they felt guilty as they realized that their beloved Colonel may be staying at the camp because of his loyalty towards them. On the other hand, they were proud of their contributions towards this amazing operation. Of course, there were still others that thought the operation was originally staged out of London, and that Burkhalter had nothing to do with Hogan's arrival at Stalag 13. But they kept quiet.

"You must feel a little grateful towards these writers, General, for not painting you as a one-dimensional character, but instead giving you the opportunity to perform a simple act of kindness towards an enemy soldier; an act that undeniably saved his life."

Yes, and that probably led to him becoming the most dangerous man in Germany. Remarkably, both Hochstetter and Burkhalter were thinking the same thing.

This is the biggest bunch of baloney I've ever heard. This thought came from most of the men on the prisoners' side of the courtroom.

Something was nagging at Klink. It had to do with Burkhalter, but he could not pinpoint what it was, exactly. He shrugged it off, still secure in the knowledge that he was chosen specifically by the General to babysit Hogan.

"Yes, Mr. Mason. I am somewhat grateful to these writers. I'm not a monster, as you can see." Burkhalter's response was rather wooden, but then he was not one to show much emotion. Mason concluded, and then turned his witness over to Commander Riker.

"General Burkhalter, are you fond of model airplanes?"

"What?"

"Never mind, General. As the General in charge of all of these stalags, you have been responsible for sending weapons systems, scientists, assorted officers, secret plans, battle plans, maps, etc. over to Stalag 13 for what reason?"

"Security. And no one would think to look for these things in a small, insignificant Stalag."

"Odd, General, considering that scientists have disappeared or been killed, secret plans, battle plans, and maps have been copied or smuggled out, and weapons have malfunctioned or been destroyed. I'm surprised no one has questioned your military competence, General."

LeBeau whispered in Carter's ear, "I told you, I think he's Nimrod. Why else would these things fall in our lap?"

"Good point, but I don't know. What about Schultz or Klink? I mean, Schultz says he sees nothing, but he really has. And what has he done about it? Nothing!"

LeBeau shushed Carter. "Quiet, or you'll give things away…ouch!"

"What are you two talking about? LeBeau what's your problem?" Hogan heard the two whispering and that could only mean trouble.

"Nothing, sir, but I think my appendix is about to burst."

"Oh, brother." Hogan motioned for the ever-present medic. "Wilson, find a guard to take LeBeau to the emergency room and then get back here."

"It appears, General, that there has been a great deal of speculation amongst these writers as to why these opportunities for sabotage constantly fall into the laps of the saboteurs. And these writers are incorporating these questions into their stories. Perhaps these writers are unknowingly jeopardizing the Allied war effort by inviting curiosity as to the identity of a certain agent?"

Carter, Kinch and Newkirk started to observe the behavior of the Germans in the courtroom. Sweat was again dripping off of Burkhalter's top lip. Schultz was looking down at the floor. Hochstetter returned to his paper shredding, and Klink had slunk far down into the bench in a vain attempt to look invisible.

"Why would I be concerned if the writers were jeopardizing the Allied war effort, Commander?" The cogs in Burkhalter's brain were beginning to turn. "Let them." If I am Nimrod and they are jeopardizing the Allied war effort, they have to be stopped. 

Hogan also noticed the uncomfortable reactions emanating from this discussion. These people could blow the whole shebang if Nimrod's identity gets out. Although, it would be nice if someone would tell me who the hell he is. They have to be stopped. Hogan absentmindedly put his hands in the pockets of his bomber jacket, and then pulled out a chunk of dirt. Where did this come from? Without warning, Hogan began to feel a little claustrophobic.

"Yes, Judge," Riker said emphatically. "These writers may cost the Allies the war!"


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10: Chapter 10

And the fun continues, thought Mason as he got ready for his next witness.

"I would like to call Wilhelm Klink to the stand."

"Me?"

"Yes, you Kommandant." Mason looked at Klink and motioned him towards the front of the courtroom.

Klink was almost shaking as he took his seat.

"Kommandant Klink. You've had quite an interesting reign as the warden of Stalag 13, haven't you?"

"Um, I don't know what you're referring to, Mr. Mason." Klink glanced over at Hogan with a look that read, "Help." Hogan looked back at Klink and shrugged.

"Kommandant. You've been described in unflattering terms as being an egotist, vain, a mediocre student, an opportunist, scared of his own shadow, and a bureaucrat."

"Sounds about right," Hogan said. Schultz snickered.

"Hogan!" Klink flashed an admonishing look.

Mason chuckled and then got back to work. "That's not entirely true, is it Kommandant? Let's go over some things, shall we?"

"I'm taking the fifth." Klink took his riding crop and pounded it on the floor.

Harry shook his head. "You haven't been asked any questions yet. And besides, I don't believe you guys followed our constitution."

Klink whimpered.

"You appear to be quite adept at handling medical emergencies, Kommandant. I have evidence that shows you administering first aid, morphine, and support to Colonel Hogan when he was severely injured. In fact, you kept a level head during that time, didn't you?"

Klink nodded.

"I also see here, that you did not hesitate to call in a doctor, your own personal physician, I believe, when the Colonel was left virtually dead on your doorstep after a long run-in with the Gestapo."

"Yes," said Klink, "that's correct, but I'm just being humane."

"You also know how to fire a weapon, don't you Kommandant? Seems to me that you were actually able to shoot the gun out of Major Hochstetter's hand, before he had a chance to execute Hogan. Oh, then once again, you called a doctor." Mason stared right into Klink's face. "Do you deny that happened?"

"No, I do not deny that happened." Klink began to sit up a little straighter in his seat.

Hochstetter growled. He remembered that humiliation. How could the writer have cut him off so abruptly, and then have the nerve to kill him off?

"You received Hogan as a prisoner, and were instructed to continue with his interrogations, Kommandant. I understand your interrogations were rather mild. They did not progress and you ended up playing, let's see, a great deal of chess."

"I thought I could gain his trust?" Klink was now furiously thinking about bolting.

"You made a personal visit to another prison camp, specifically to check on Colonel Hogan's condition after he was held and interrogated by the Gestapo, and then arranged for his transfer back to Stalag 13."

"He was not himself, and the treatment at that Stalag was not humane." Tears formed in Klink's eyes as he recalled Hogan's condition.

Hogan shuddered. He didn't think he would ever recover from that experience.

"I have evidence here that shows that you lied or withheld crucial information to serve your own purpose and, ultimately, the greater good." Mason took out a long list.

"Let's see here. You observed Colonel Hogan speaking fluent German in the Hofbrau outside of camp but did not turn him in."

Oh lord. Hogan grabbed Carter and gave him orders to return to camp and begin to wire the tunnels.

Mason just read on. "You lied to the staff at the hospital in Hammelburg to get Hogan urgent treatment when he was shot in your office. You told them Hogan was of special interest to the Reich, didn't you? Also, you did not follow specific orders to continue an attempt at brainwashing the Colonel, when you actually did not spike Hogan's drink with a special sedative."

Brainwashing? Hogan was now developing a migraine.

"You altered records to make it appear that Colonel Hogan was recovering from severe injuries at the time of a bridge explosion, and you've surrendered Stalag 13 prior to actual liberation, several times."

Burkhalter and Hochstetter were now beside themselves. "I told you he was a traitor," Hochstetter growled. "He probably blew up those trains." (1)

"I'm beginning to agree with you." Burkhalter hated Hochstetter, but if Klink was a traitor…

"I wanted to avoid unnecessary bloodshed." Klink's response was slightly calmer.

"Yes, Kommandant, there is definitely another side to your personality. Care to discuss it?" Mason stepped up to the chair and waited for Klink's response.

"I said, Mr. Mason, I have nothing to say." Klink removed his monocle and placed it in his pocket, sat up straight, and stared back at the attorney.

What the hell is going on here? Burkhalter noticed the change in Klink's demeanor. He looked over at Hochstetter, who was frankly stunned.

Did I actually say that? Klink thought. What is going on here?

"Colonel, if this goes much further, we and Klink could be in a lot of hot water." This statement of the obvious came from Olsen.

Newkirk attempted to agree with Olsen, but all he managed to do was spit some dirt and dust out of his mouth. "Sorry, Guv'nor. Don't know where that came from." He then stared intently at Hogan. Hogan stared intently back. Strange thoughts began to appear in Newkirk's head. He quickly shook them off. I'm losing my mind. They're messing with canon, they are! 

"Don't panic yet," said Hogan, who by now was panicking internally; what with his premonition, the strange appearance of dirt, and Klink's testimony. Klink has a brain in there somewhere, I hope. Let's see where this goes.

"Kommandant Klink. Do you admit that you stood up to a Gestapo officer who wanted to remove Colonel Hogan and his men for questioning, after another Gestapo officer was killed? You convinced him that you would handle their punishment."(2)

Not too bad. "Yes," Klink answered.

"I have proof here, Kommandant, that while trapped in a cave-in, you were the one that calmed your prisoner down, kept him talking, gave him hope, while you were suffering from a severe injury. That's quite an accomplishment, Kommandant. Very courageous."

"Well, I wouldn't call it courageous. I did what I had to do."

Bull stepped over to Harry and whispered, "That doesn't look like the same man."

Harry whispered back. "I can see that."

"It's like Bruce Wayne turning into Batman."

"Peter Parker and Spiderman," Harry replied.

"No, more like Bruce Banner and The Incredible Hulk."

"No," Harry shook his head. "Can't, he's not angry. Clark Kent into Superman. That's it."

"Good one, sir." Bull stepped down. "Oops." The entire courtroom was staring at the Judge and his bailiff.

Sheepishly, Harry apologized. "Sorry folks, got distracted. Please continue, Mr. Mason."

"Oh, there are more examples here, Kommandant. You've realized for a long time that Hogan was manipulating you and the other Germans, and taking advantage of General Burkhalter's stupidity, or complicity…" Mason threw Burkhalter a smile. "And you neither assisted nor hindered the Colonel with his plans. But, you also understood that sometimes, Colonel Hogan's antics, as I'd like to call them, went too far, and you attempted to teach him a lesson didn't you? That these exploits were dangerous, and people were dying."

Hogan shivered. He recalled that incident. Klink scared the dickens out of me. Pulling me out of that car while I was handcuffed and holding that gun against my neck.

"It had to be done," Klink replied. "Escaped prisoners from other Stalags were murdered in cold blood when they were recaptured. I didn't want that to happen to my prisoners."

How touching, thought Hochstetter.

"Kommandant, I'm not done. You've shown tremendous valor over the years. You deliberately snuck in a vial of your own blood, in order to hide the fact that Hogan was poisoned. Do you recall that incident?"

"Hogan would have been outed as an agent if the poison had shown up in his blood sample. I felt that the best recourse was to prevent this from happening." Klink answered this as calmly as if he had been reciting a shopping list.

Mason nodded. He mulled over whether or not he should offer up the next bit of evidence. Yes, he would.

"Kommandant," he said softly. "You hid the identity of a Jewish prisoner, didn't you?"

Klink responded in anger. "How dare you bring that up, Mason! How far are you willing to go to prove a point? You are walking down a path that leads to danger. I suggest you think carefully before continuing this interrogation!"

Mason was incensed. "Judge, I would like to have it noted in the record that we are dealing with a hostile witness!"

"Noted, counselor." Harry was beginning to get concerned. What had gotten into Klink? What was he hiding?

Hogan had an epiphany and now remembered what Klink had been up to. He had already ordered Carter back to camp to wire the tunnels. He now wished he could use those cell phones. Unfortunately, the Stalag had no coverage.

"Olsen, head back to camp and get those prisoners out through the emergency tunnels. You know who." Olsen nodded. "Get them to a safe house until we can make contact with the sub. And then get back here with my cane! I think I'm about to have trouble walking."

"Yes, sir." Olsen snuck out. The route between the courthouse and Stalag 13 was now beginning to resemble Grand Central Station.

Riker was furiously attempting to get the Judge's attention. Klink was still in a stare-down with Mason. Hochstetter was reading a note given to him by an aide about threats to his life. Hogan was chewing aspirin. Burkhalter was thinking about sending the whole lot, including himself, to the Russian front, and Schultz was hoping that LeBeau would be out of the hospital in time to make him some strudel.

Harry had seen enough. The gavel got everyone's attention. "I'm calling a recess. Counselors, both of you in my chambers, now!"

Kinch calmly watched the chaos from his seat next to the Colonel, and issued this observation. "Well, doesn't that beat all?"

Olsen had left the courthouse and was on his way to the Stalag, when he ran into Hammond heading the other way. He briefly stopped and filled him in. "It's bedlam in there, be careful."

"Baker sent me over. I've got news from London."

"Better be good," said Olsen, "Or else we may all be on the run."

Harry sat as his desk while Riker and Mason stood in front of him. Riker spoke first.

"This attorney is in the process of destroying the Allied war effort. He's in the process of getting these characters put in front of a firing squad! He doesn't care, as long as he gets his clients off. You have to stop the testimony. I don't care if this is just a hearing. Even if it doesn't go to trial, this will get out!"

Harry was willing to hear his side, although, like Riker, he was wary of where Klink's testimony was heading.

"First of all, my clients are innocent." Of course. "And I will get them off." I always do. "Judge, I'm attempting to prove that my clients have taken a character that has been ridiculed, made fun of, manipulated, stereotyped…"

"Yeah, we get the idea," Harry said. "Make your point."

"He's been redeemed, your honor." Mason choked back his tears.

"Oh, for God's sake, Mason." Riker couldn't believe that the defense attorney would stoop so low as to bring on fake water-works.

Harry gave it some thought. "Let me hear what else you have on Klink before I let this circus continue."

While Riker and Mason were undergoing their own interrogation in Harry's chambers, Hogan was reading the message delivered to him by Hammond.

"Good news, sir?" Kinch tried to sound hopeful. This day was not going well.

"I think so. It seems London has had a breakthrough with the codes."

Newkirk proudly exclaimed, "That's my people! We break codes! " (3)

"It's like this, gentlemen." All of the prisoners began to gather around Hogan. "They've discovered the addresses."

"Addresses?" asked a private. "Like 221B Baker Street?"

"No," said Hogan. "The special addresses the writers use to help them sign on to the computer. Here, eat this." He crumpled up the piece of paper, handed it to the private, who promptly chewed and swallowed the note. "If I remember correctly, they call them e-mail addresses. But don't get too excited yet; we're missing the rest of the puzzle."

Burkhalter and Hochstetter were observing this meeting of the minds, while Klink still sat stiffly and proudly in the witness chair.

"Break them up, Hochstetter, but not before you find out what they are discussing."

"Yes, General." Hochstetter grabbed Schultz. "Break them up, Schultz. That's your job."

Schultz obediently obeyed the Gestapo agent and walked over to the prisoners. "Colonel Hogan, the Major asks that you break up this meeting and return to your seats."

The crowd scattered and sat down. Hochstetter walked over to Hogan. "Something you wish to share with us, Colonel Hogan?"

"Nope. We were just discussing the Yankees and the Red Sox. Passing the time."

"I don't believe you."

"Sorry, Major. Suit yourself." Hogan put on his most innocent expression. Wait for it!

"Bah!" Hochstetter stomped off. Burkhalter shook his head. How useless could one Gestapo agent be?

Harry, Riker, and Mason returned to the courtroom. Riker was distressed. The judge had agreed with Mason, and had decided to let his questioning continue.

Harry warned Klink that he would be in contempt if he refused to answer the questions.

Mason had one more ace in the hole.

"Kommandant Klink. You're not really that pathetic, whiney, character, are you?"

"You must know that I'm not Mason, otherwise you wouldn't be asking me that question." Klink glared at the attorney.

"No, Kommandant. These writers have redeemed your character, haven't they? You, Klink, have been shown as courageous, cunning, supportive, helpful, and brave; and in addition, you have been portrayed as a major player in the German underground movement! Yes, Klink, you have been redeemed by a group of writers who did not take pity on you, but saw promise. Commander Riker, your witness!" Mason triumphantly sat down.

Riker dejectedly stood up.

Klink pleaded with Riker with his eyes. I'm not afraid of being shot. Dying doesn't bother me, but all the rest; I can't have this on my conscience.

Riker had one point to make. "Kommandant Klink. Mr. Mason graciously entertained the court with all of your various exploits. But he forgot to mention one thing; you never stopped these things from happening in the first place! How many times did you let the Gestapo remove prisoners from camp? How come you let Hochstetter torture Hogan, over and over again? If you had just learned to stick up for yourself and your charges, you wouldn't have had to play nursemaid, or go to Gestapo headquarters, or rescue Hogan from another prison camp, would you? You never said no."

Shocked prisoners started heckling the witness. Their respect had now turned into disdain.

"Yeah, Klink! They made you partially responsible for what they did to our Colonel!"

"Underground leader? That didn't help me when some lunatic took me away with all the other English prisoners!"

"First, Hitler decides to kill the officers, and then you allowed that monster," the soldier pointed to Hochstetter, "To drag the Colonel into a cell and beat him to a pulp."

"That's enough! Knock it off! That's an order!" Hogan felt like he was about to have a heart attack. So much for the reboot.

The prisoners' tirade had an interesting effect on Klink's personality. The spectators and the Judge observed Klink's regression from superhero back to milquetoast. Klink had no answer. All he could do was vow to get some therapy when this whole thing ended.

 

(1) "Will the Real Colonel Klink Please Stand up Against the Wall"

(2) "Diamonds in the Rough"

(3) Britain's Government Code and Cipher School at Bletchley Park broke the code on Germany's enigma machine


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11: Chapter 11

Spectators and reporters considered Klink's testimony, and decided it had ended in a draw for the prosecution and defense. Mason's next move would make or break the case.

The recital of various horrific incidents during Klink's questioning had again left most of the participants drained. Klink was still wondering who he really was. Hogan and Newkirk were sitting dejectedly in their seats trying to forget the past damage done to their bodies, while Carter, who had returned after wiring the tunnels, was still left wondering what had happened to the MASH doctor that was supposed to be caring for him. Hochstetter was chomping at the bit to get the whole matter over and done with. He was not sure if the evidence heard in the courtroom would spill over into his fictional world, but if it did, a whole lot of people were in a whole lot of trouble.

Mason took a deep breath and approached the front of the courtroom. He looked at Judge Harry and made his request. "Judge, I would like to recall Colonel Hogan to the witness stand." Cries erupted from the prisoners' section. Harry quickly quelled the protests.

"He has a right to do that. Colonel Hogan, please make your way up here."

Hogan grabbed the cane Olsen had brought back with him and glumly limped up to the stand. He sat down as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders.

Mason carefully approached the Colonel. This cross-examination had to be handled delicately; otherwise, it could easily backfire on the defense.

"Colonel Hogan? How long were you in that prison camp?"

"Hogan, Robert E. Colonel. Serial number 087…"

Whoa, he's not doing too good. Mason tried again.

"Colonel, you're not at Gestapo headquarters. How long were you in that prison camp?"

"What?" Hogan realized where he was and responded. "Let's see, three years maybe. Yes, I was shot down in '42, so it would be three years, or 168 episodes."

"You lived with and had close contact with all of these men…" Mason pointed towards the courtroom. "For three long years. You must know a lot about them, don't you? After all, you were their commanding officer. Colonel, what personal details can you divulge about these other characters?"

"Oh, that's easy." Hogan relaxed."Newkirk, he's, well, from England, obviously. Has a sister, Mavis, does magic, worked in the circus, his Mom was a dancer and, oh, yeah, great with chimps. Yep."

Mason was becoming amused. "Please continue."

"LeBeau, well he's gone to the ER, his appendix burst, I think. Great cook. Loves France. Can't think of a better patriot. Is he married?" Hogan looked at the prisoners for help. "I could have sworn he mentioned a wife once. But he likes that Russian woman." Hogan grimaced. "Loves dogs, and he can drive a train backwards! And Kinch; what a boxer! Name is really Kinchloe, first name James. Came from Detroit and worked for the phone company; great impersonator. Carter, he worked at a pharmacy and took some business courses." Carter nodded. "Had a girlfriend named Mary Jane, but that didn't work out. Oh, and he's, 'Little Deer Who Goes Swift And Sure Through the Forest.'"

"What about the Germans, Colonel?"

"Let's see. Schultz, he's married, owned a toy factory, and I think he's a Social Democrat. Right, Schultz? Met his wife once; lovely woman, lives in Heidelberg. Klink plays the violin in an ensemble. Both were in the First World War. Graduated 43rd in his class at the gymnasium, I heard. Anything else?"

"No, that's plenty Colonel. And yourself? Mason asked. "Who are you, exactly?"

"Me?" Hogan laughed. "Well, there's not much to tell, really. Number three in my class, but you must know that. Lots of shiny medals. Commander of 504th bomber group. Shot down over Hamburg by Biedenbender. Oh, I have a friend named Roberts, uh…" Where am I from again? Crap.

"I see. Thank you. You don't know much, do you, Colonel Hogan? How sad."

"Yeah," Hogan agreed. "I guess you can say that is a little weird."

"Judge, these characters were drawn with very little depth. They are one-dimensional and were designed to reflect certain stereotypes and personality traits. In six seasons, no character development was evident. But…then fan fiction came along. And now, the characters are given personalities, backgrounds, and motivation. War is treated in the way it should be, not as a game or a lighthearted romp, but as a dramatic, tragic event. These writers, sir, have done us and these characters a great service!" Mason paused for dramatic effect. He changed his voice. Calmly and quietly he surveyed the participants and spectators.

"I'll start with you." He pointed to Schultz. "Sergeant Schultz, owner of a toy factory, father to five wonderful children, one a son named Oskar. You have two brothers, one good and one, well, we won't go there. Your wife Gretchen is indeed a lovely woman, isn't she? But she is also brave, resourceful and righteous, is she not?" Schultz nodded while reaching for a handkerchief to blow his nose. "Yes, I understand she takes care of those less fortunate, at great risk to her own personal safety!" Mason excused himself for a moment and whispered something to the judge.

Harry nodded and said, "I understand. Please continue." (1)

"And you, my dear Sergeant. You can show bravery as well. You've protected not only your Kommandant, but the prisoners."

"Yes, my boys. That's true." Shultz again blew his nose.

"Major Hochstetter!"

"What?"

"Please don't growl, Major. You're close to your mother, aren't you? Ah, I see you are fond of Christmas trees, Major."

"So, what of it, Mason?"

"Just showing some character development there. I see a close friendship in the past. The two of you were rascals at age twelve, weren't you? Oh, and you had a girlfriend, didn't you? You can love and be loved."

Everyone in the courtroom went, "Aah."

"Bah!" Hochstetter turned away.

"I'm sorry, Major. You lost her; she was killed in a hotel during an air raid. Perhaps you are unaware that you are also a father?"

"Poor guy." Carter was tearing up. "He doesn't know she was an agent and her death was faked."

"Carter, are you nuts?" Kinch hit him on the shoulder.

Mason looked for his next victim. "Sergeant Carter!"The courtroom started buzzing. A main character was next on the block. "Or should I say Lieutenant Carter? Ladies and Gentlemen, Andrew here is so loyal and determined, that he was willing to take a demotion in order to assist Colonel Hogan with his operation!"

The defense attorney waited for the murmurs to die down. "Yes, and that's not all. Carter is fond of animals and will do almost anything to rescue them. Surprisingly, the boy can cook, and makes a great cherry pie. He has a large, close family, whose members pass an empty box back and forth between themselves, underscoring the fact that family and love is more important than anything. And your relationships, Carter? You aren't as naïve as you appear to be. Andrew will do what it takes to make his friends forget their pain, won't you, including pretending to be a screw-up? You helped Newkirk through a few rough times, haven't you? Despite his ribbing, you are the closest of friends."

Hogan watched with interest and awe as Carter and Newkirk began to cry on each other's shoulders.

"Maddox, where are you?" The soldier stood up and nervously muttered, "Here, sir."

"Ah, yes. The wildlife expert. Maddox rescued and kept a family of skunks underneath the tunnels."

Maddox sheepishly smiled. Even Hogan laughed. He had almost run headlong into a disaster, but he too had a soft spot for wildlife.

This is great. Judge Harry was impressed. Bull was searching for some Kleenex. Riker was both appalled and mesmerized at the same time.

Mason was just getting started. He was on a roll. "Corporal Langenscheidt! Where are you?" Mason spied him at the back of the room. "Oh, there you are. Well, aren't you interesting?" The Corporal gulped. He had accompanied Schultz to the courthouse to help guard the prisoners and had disappeared into the woodwork. "I see you are the youngest of twelve siblings. Wow! Eleven sisters? You must be fond of all of your nieces and nephews." Langenscheidt nodded. "Tsk, I am so sorry about your father being killed in the First World War."

"Poor bloke." Newkirk was fond of the shy corporal.

"You have a very close friend that you miss terribly, don't you?" Mason could now see that Langenscheidt was terrified and wanted to reassure him. "That's all, son, I won't embarrass you any further."

The corporal slid down the wall in relief.

"And now let's turn to our poor, sick, Corporal LeBeau, shall we? Fought bravely for the Free French before being captured. Showed tremendous loyalty at the end of the war. Did you know that as a Frenchman, Corporal LeBeau could have been one of the first POW's repatriated due to DeGaulle's agreement with Eisenhower, but instead he chose to remain with his friends and C.O. in order to assist in demolishing the tunnels and closing up shop? LeBeau has an uncle named Jean and a niece named Suzette, and of course we all know what he decides to do after the war."

"Open up a restaurant!" This was said in unison by everyone in the courtroom.

"And our Corporal LeBeau has a secret, a very important secret. Excuse me." Mason again walked over to Harry and whispered something in his ear. Harry nodded and motioned for him to continue. LeBeau's closest friends from Barracks two knew what the secret was and they in turn began to tear up, again. (2)

"Kommandant Klink!" Mason was afraid the officer had fled, but was relieved to still see him sitting by Burkhalter and Hochstetter. "Well, now. We've already discussed your character development, but we are also now aware that you have a brother and a mother. You run an un-segregated camp, Kommandant, and you see past people's appearances and nationalities. I have it on good authority from one of the authors that you can act like a gentlemen, and are a good dancer. You were close friends with an elderly gentlemen who has unfortunately since disappeared, and I'm sorry to report the loss of your nephew in an air raid. My condolences, Kommandant. Oh, and you too have another secret."(3) Mason traipsed back over to the judge and again whispered in his ear. Klink held out his hand and waited for Schultz to hand him a handkerchief. He and his sergeant were both crying.

Mason decided to stay on the German side of the courtroom. "Let's look at General Burkhalter, shall we?"

"Hurry up and get this over with." Burkhalter was fed up and very hungry.

"You have a sister and a niece, but we already know that. But what we didn't know is that your sister, Frau Linkmeyer, has done a very brave and courageous thing, hasn't she? She's been working for the Allies."

Everyone started talking and looking around.

"Oh, don't worry." Mason laughed. "She's long gone. Safely tucked away in England, I believe. Now, I know, General, that you're not really happy about this…"

I'm not? Burkhalter was still slightly confused.

"Oh well, never mind. Let's continue with the Allies, shall we? Sergeant Olsen?"

"Here!" Olsen was as cocky as always.

"Enjoying your nice house in town? What do you actually do outside of the Stalag, besides hosting fan fiction authors? Never mind, you're quite busy. You do show up in a lot of these stories, don't you? And when you do, you're quite the soldier. You should be proud of him, Colonel. I'd call him the 5th hero, wouldn't you?"

Hogan, who, like the others, was looking for a handkerchief, stopped, looked at Olsen, and offered the sergeant a salute.

"Let's move on, shall we?" Mason was enjoying himself. He regretted that the hearing was not being video-taped. "Corporal Newkirk has a sister named Mavis. We knew that, but what we now know is that Mavis works for the War Department in London. You are proud of her, aren't you Peter?"

"That's my Mavis," Newkirk said. "We watch out for each other."

"More than you know, Peter. You're a jack of all trades, Newkirk. But what will it be at the end of the war? Show business or a pub? We do know that you helped rebuild the Palladium. Oh, and you might be happy to know that you get to tell all about your adventures to your grandchildren. You appreciate the talent of others, particularly when it comes to playing the cello, and you are willing to risk your life to save others; in one case, civilians."

Newkirk's emotions were on overload. He missed his sister and his mum. He had heard the word grandchildren, and he was constantly being reminded of the experience in the castle with that lunatic. He turned back to Carter and continued crying.

Throughout the entire proceedings, Kinch had been staring stoically forward, not moving a muscle. He was a private man, and did not want his life story being thrown about the court for all to hear. He was tired of seeing his friend, and that's how he saw Hogan, suffering, while at the same time trying to make command decisions. And he was tired of bearing the burden of being second in command. Kinch was almost ready to use some of his boxing skills on the irritating defense attorney, but, as always, he was able to keep his temper in check.

Mason was not done. "Sergeant Kinchloe. You are Colonel Hogan's second in command. Usually seen downstairs on the radio. But we now know you came into Germany already speaking fluent French and German. You have a family back home in Detroit; Joseph is your younger brother. Despite racial injustice, you managed to join a bomber crew and fulfill your potential, partially because of good men who fight injustice and see past color; men like Colonel Hogan and the officers back at your base. Isn't that right, Sergeant?"

Kinch looked at Mason. He shrugged and said, "I do my part."

"You're too modest," Mason replied.

"True," Hogan agreed.

Mason took a breath. He was almost done.And now for the pièce de résistance. "Colonel Hogan, let's conclude this, shall we?"

"Get on with it Mason, the Colonel's having problems again." Riker was not only concerned for Hogan's health, but he was seeing his case go up in smoke.

"Colonel Hogan is more than an officer with lots of shiny medals and a cool jacket. He graduated from West Point."

"Ooh!" This came from the spectators.

"Lived in Connecticut. Flew for Britain before the United States entered the war. You like to play practical jokes on people, don't you, Colonel?"

This got the prisoners laughing, while Hogan blushed.

"You come from a well-off but down to earth family. I see you are very close to your parents, Colonel."

"My mom makes the best pot roast." He sniffed.

"Yes, I know. Your father is either a doctor or a WW1 vet and you have siblings. Did you lose your brother in the Pacific?"

Hogan nodded.

"I'm so sorry," Mason responded. "You dote on your nieces and nephews, but in addition, you also have children and grandchildren. Yes, in fact, you take your son to visit Klink after the war. Speaking of which, it seems that you and the Kommandant here have very long life spans, because you both witnessed the fall of the Berlin Wall."

Wall? Hogan and Klink looked at each other in confusion.

"Does that mean we all survive this mess?" Carter whispered this to Kinch.

"Don't know," he whispered back. "At least the Colonel does."

"And the reason you speak German like a native," Mason was rambling on, "Is because your mother's side comes from Germany."

"I knew it!" Both Hochstetter and Klink spoke at the same time.

"There's more," Mason said, "Shall I continue?"

"No, please, stop," Hogan pleaded.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize how emotional this would be." Of course Mason did, that was the point. He had managed in several minutes to turn the entire courtroom into a blubbering mass of overwrought soldiers. Even the judge was crying.

"Judge, I'm done with Colonel Hogan. I rest my case."

"Commander Riker? Any questions for the Colonel?" Harry grabbed another Kleenex.

I'd better have a good closing argument. Riker did not have any more questions for Colonel Hogan. He helped him down from the stand, carefully slipping a small disc into his pocket, as he took him back to the prisoners' benches.

Judge Harry called for a recess and instructed the counselors to return back for closing arguments in one hour.

 

(1) The Schultz family hides Jewish refugees

(2)LeBeau is Jewish, obviously. One story has LeBeau reassuring another prisoner that he will attend a service and that with his participation, they will make a Minyan. (In the Orthodox tradition, 10 Jewish men over the age of 13 are required for a communal religious service)

(3)Klink has also helped Jewish refugees. In one story, he was being blackmailed for helping Jewish children get out of Germany.

A/N If the details in footnotes 1 and 2, are not exactly right, I apologize, but hopefully the readers will get the idea. After Klink's outburst in the previous chapter, Mason wisely decided to keep these details quiet.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12: Chapter 12

After a brief recess, held mainly so that participants could regroup, wash their faces, and replenish their Kleenex supply, the court re-adjourned to hear closing arguments.

Riker, of course, went first.

"Judge, you've heard and seen the evidence. These writers have tortured these poor characters enough. Sure, they have offered further character development, but at what cost? This man," he pointed to Hogan, "Was so sick, it took 24th century technology to save him. These prisoners will suffer from PTSD for the rest of their lives. I would like to point out that, as these hearings have been taking place, more and more damage has been done to the characters. It never stops."

"That's right, you tell him Commander!"

"I still don't feel so hot."

"Why is my chest so tight?"

"I'm next."

"Someone is really trying to kill me, Judge!"

"Do you mind?" Harry could not believe the behavior of the spectators. "Can you all please quiet down and let the Commander finish?"

Riker actually thought the outbursts were funny, but he kept his opinion to himself. "Judge Stone, I want to leave you with this thought. If these people are not stopped, where will they go next? Will they sink McHale's ship? Attack Gomer Pyle's base? They've already dragged other characters into World War 2. Ambassador Spock, Sam Beckett, that guy from Green Acres, Jed Clampett from Beverly Hillbillies, Mr. Ed! Judge, think about it. You could be on the chopping block."

Harry shuddered. Yes, this was a little scary.

"This is a virus that has to be eliminated, Judge. I have proof that angst has spread into other fandoms; MASH, Rat Patrol, Greatest American Hero, Lois and Clark, my own series, perhaps even Perry Mason! Take a stand. Bring these criminals to trial, where they will be convicted and punished for their crimes against fan fiction characters. Take a stand, so they cannot hurt anyone else. Thank you."

"Mr. Mason?"

Perry calmly approached the bench. "Judge, we are not denying that these characters have been through some rough and hard times."

Harry stopped the outcry from the spectators even before it started. "One word from any of you, and you'll be thrown out!"

Duly chastised, the soldiers sat meekly in their seats.

Perry continued. "But, there are mitigating factors here. First of all, can we realistically police every fan fiction site on the net? I think not. Second, these authors have a right to compose and publish whatever they want as long as they abide by the rules set forth in . I have seen no evidence that they have violated any of these rules. Third, punishing them for publishing these wonderfully creative stories would violate their free-speech rights under the constitution of the United States. Fourth, is it right to prosecute these authors, when you can go into any bookstore or on-line retailer and order fictions based off of TV shows or movies? Have you checked the sci-fi section lately? Rows and rows of Star Wars novels; books based off of Star Trek. Go to the teen section. Book series based off of popular teen dramas. Why is that considered okay, but not these amateur publications placed on a web site? Fifth, if we punish these writers, should we not also punish the readers? For every writer, there has to be thousands of readers who encourage the authors with positive reviews."

Good point, Harry thought. He made a mental note to check and see if there were any Night Court novels.

"Judge, ladies and gentlemen, these characters are actually benefiting from these exploits. This program could have faded away into the dustbin of television history. But, due to fanfiction, more people are discovering the show's promise. Young people who were previously unaware of the program are now buying the DVDs, and are able to experience the extraordinary acting, timing, and writing of those fine performers and writers; and all because they stumbled across the fanfiction site."

Here comes the strong finish. Perry lowered his voice and spoke slowly in a composed and calm manner. "You've heard the evidence. These people should not be punished for their creativity; they should be rewarded as pioneers. Rewarded for bringing life to one-dimensional characters, rewarded for examining the true nature of war and its effect on the participants, rewarded for tackling difficult subjects in a mature and forthright manner, and rewarded for bringing out the untapped creative potential in all of us. Judge, these people are not guilty and there is not enough evidence to go to trial. The case should be dismissed!"

"Uh, you done?"

Perry nodded.

"Oh. Well, now. Thank you everyone for your cooperation. I'll be looking at the evidence and come back with my decision as soon as possible. So, everyone go back where you came from, and we'll call you when I'm done." Harry banged his gavel, grabbed his notes and toys, and disappeared into his chambers. Riker and Perry offered congenial congratulations to each other, while the witnesses and spectators sprang into action after a few moments of shock, and went back to Germany.

Hogan and his band of prisoners were surprised to see that their missing comrade had returned to the barracks.

"Louis, what are you doing here?" Hogan looked at the corporal with concern. "I'd figure you'd be laid up in the hospital for a week!"

LeBeau was on a bottom bunk, wrapped in a blanket and propped up on several pillows. It appeared that the few prisoners left at the barracks had genially taken over the job of nursemaid. LeBeau was clearly not happy.

"They took me to the hospital, mon Colonel. And as quick as you can say "tout de suite," they had me cut open, took out the appendix, in recovery and then back out. Something about outpatient procedures and managed care. I didn't even have a chance to flirt with the nurses."

"Look at the bright side, LeBeau. At least you didn't have to eat hospital food." That was Carter, the eternal optimist.

Hogan shook his head. The 21st century was clearly an enigma. "I'll get you out of roll call."

LeBeau had missed the end of the hearing and was anxious to hear the results. Everyone willingly filled him in.

"You should have seen that defense attorney," said Carter. "He had everyone crying about their families and everything. And the Colonel got sick again and Klink got mad."

"Carter!" Hogan quieted the overenthusiastic and loquacious sergeant/lieutenant. "Everyone gather 'round. I have something to show you." Hogan removed the disc Riker had slipped into his pocket. The group stared at the unfamiliar do-hickey.

"What is it, sir?"

"I think it's a computer, a computer…chip, yeah that's it. It holds information."

"On that little piece of metal?"

"Yep. Riker slipped it to me. My guess is that it contains vital information, possibly those addresses and passwords we were looking for."

"Why would he give it to us?" Kinch asked. "That's not exactly fair, is it?"

"This is war, Kinch. I think he wants us to continue the fight even if we lose the first battle. And we're starting tonight." Hogan had already planned this out. "Kinch and Newkirk, you're coming with me to the courthouse. We'll sneak in tonight and see what's on this disc. Then we'll take it from there."

Burkhalter was also thinking about the addresses and passwords. So far, Hochstetter had made no progress on cracking the code. Burkhalter decided to call the Major and press him to continue his research. He reached Hochstetter's aide, who assured the general that Major Hochstetter was working diligently on something very important. Satisfied, Burkhalter hung up the phone and went home. Hochstetter was indeed working on something important. He had picked up a nice bottle of wine and a torte and had gone to visit his mother. They spent the evening sorting through their Christmas tree ornaments.

Riker transported back up to the Enterprise and this time sought out the advice of Counselor Troi, in the counselor's quarters.

"Deanna, if I reveal something to you in this office, it will remain confidential, right?"

"Of course, Will. Nothing you say here will be revealed. We are now talking as ship's counselor and patient. What is you wanted to tell me?"

Riker revealed that he had slipped newer technology into Hogan's pocket.

Deanna was appalled. "Will, how could you even think of going there? You've probably violated the Prime Directive, the Temporal Prime Directive and goodness knows what other regulations!"

"Well, I thought about it long and hard. Mason is good, really good. He even had me crying at the end. I'm not optimistic, but I couldn't stand to see these things happen to these characters anymore. They're good people, well most of them are anyway, and I think they deserve a fighting chance."

"But, Will!"

"Deanna, hear me out. It's up to Hogan to figure out how to get the information out of that disc and then if he does, what happens next is up to him. Look, I had Data gather the information because I thought the Judge might need it if the case went to trial, to use as punishment, I guess. You know, London managed to solve the first piece of the puzzle? They got the addresses."

"Well, perhaps they'll figure out the rest."

Riker shook his head. "I saw what they had. Won't get them anywhere. They got close, but the addresses are case-sensitive. London didn't understand that."

Deanna interrupted. "How long did it take Data to crack the codes?"

Riker replied, "Five minutes and 23 seconds."

Deanna was surprised. "That long?"

Riker answered. "Slow connection."

"Well, Will, we're still here, so I guess nothing major happened to the timeline. I can't turn you in and I wouldn't anyway. You know that." Deanna was hungry. "Never mind. Let's go to ten-forward and get some ice cream."

Klink had returned to his quarters and asked Schultz to bring him his usual glass of warm milk. On the way out of the courthouse, the Kommandant had slipped into the bookstore located in the lobby and purchased several items that he brought back with him. Now he had to decide what would be the best book to read before bed. He looked over his selection. "What Color is your Parachute?" No, pretty cover, but not in the mood for that one. "Multiple Personality Disorders for Dummies" Definitely not in the mood for that one. Maybe tomorrow. He made his selection and went to bed carrying his milk and a copy of the "Star Trek Encyclopedia."

The Boys in the Barracks spent a long evening waiting for Hogan and his team to return from the courthouse. It left them a lot of time to reflect on the past few days. Carter was sure Hogan would retrieve the entire code. What he planned to do with the information was another story. Not being a violent or vindictive person, Carter could not imagine the ramifications of having this information at their fingertips. On the other hand, Carter still had the scars left over from his own personal torture session…

Louis didn't care what Hogan planned on doing with the information. Whatever it was, he was absolutely sure his Colonel would choose the right path and he would be right by his side. Now hopping mad at his misfortune and literally sick of this whole fiasco, Louis was ready to pounce.

The two of them tried to keep themselves occupied while waiting. Carter was asking questions. "Why torture? Why not try a kinder and gentler method of retrieving information, like using sodium pentathol? At least, then, we wouldn't be left battered and broken. And don't these people feel guilty? I know I feel guilty. Every time one of my bombs goes off, BOOM! People get killed. I know that, but it makes me feel awful inside."

LeBeau tried to keep his temper in check. Sometimes Carter can really test your patience. He shook his head. "Carter we're all at war. I don't know. Maybe they're at war." Fortunately, the bunk entrance opened to reveal Hogan, Newkirk and Kinch returning from their mission.

"Were you guys successful?" Olsen closed the bunk and ran to get the crew some coffee.

"Piece of cake!" Hogan was happy.

"Went like clockwork." Newkirk added. "And those locks, no problems."

"We took the disc to the library and opened up a computer," Hogan continued.

"I think the term is hacked into, sir." Kinch finished the play by play. "The instructions were right there, next to the equipment. I couldn't believe it. Library passwords and everything."

"Anyway, here's the stuff. We downloaded and printed the information." Hogan placed several sheets of paper onto the table. "We'll see how the wind is blowing and then decide what we're going to do with these records."


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13: Chapter 13

A crowd of anxious people entered the courtroom. Notification had come in that the judge had reached a decision. Would the case be dismissed, leaving the characters to the mercy of the writers, or would the defendants be held over for trial?

Word had spread around fan fiction; and now, nervous characters from other shows had shown up to show their support. They were jammed into the back of the room, along with reporters and interested attorneys.

Judge Harry had taken his time reviewing all of the evidence. He had gone over the testimony line by line, and had conducted hours of his own research on the issue. The judge had even signed onto the site again, and had been appalled to find at least two other angst ridden entries posted recently that had not yet had an impact on the prisoners. He became so stressed that he found himself popping antacid tablets while listening to his Mel Torme records. But, what the case boiled down to was evidence. Harry had to put his personal feelings aside, overlook his sympathy for Hogan and his crew, and make a sound legal decision.

Again, Bull proudly announced the judge. "All rise. Judge Harry Stone presiding. Case number 0876707, Sergeant Andrew J. Carter et al vs. Those who cannot be named."

Harry motioned for everyone to be seated. He then began to speak.

"This has to be one of the most difficult and emotional cases I have ever worked on. Before I reveal my decision, I want to assure both sides that I considered every piece of testimony, and every twist and turn, no matter how unusual, before reaching any conclusions."

The crowd leaned forward in anticipation of a verdict. Hogan looked at Kinch and gave an unobtrusive signal, which Kinch quietly acknowledged.

But, the verdict didn't come. Harry was not done with his speech. The crowd groaned and leaned back.

"I would first like to address both counselors. Congratulations are in order to both of you for conducting yourselves in a professional manner, and for handling such a difficult case. Commander Riker? This is not your level of expertise, but I found that you managed to pull off a credible prosecution, and expertly represented your clients. Mr. Mason? Your reputation precedes you, and, once again, you do it justice. I did not; however, fall for your emotional blackmail near the end of your portion, but your point was expertly made. And now…"

Finally. The crowd leaned forward.

"And now, I'd like to have a word with the characters."

The crowd leaned back. This time they moaned.

"First, Major Hochstetter. I think you really need to learn to chill. Take a vacation. One of those all-inclusive resorts in the Caribbean might do you some good. General Burkhalter and Colonel Klink. I think you both need a support group. You always seem to be a little confused. Check it out. Now, the prisoners. You've suffered the most. I can't imagine how much. I've been fortunate up until now. My show ran. It ended. Nothing bad has happened. I'm still a judge. But you; you're certainly in a bad position aren't you? You can't go home. You're in jail, but not criminals. Must be pretty depressing. I know you keep busy and all, with your extracurricular activities, but geez, yeah, that's got to be tough. And being the puppets of these writers." Harry shook his head. "Just awful."

Hogan looked at his men. It was beginning to look like Harry may rule for his side. He mouthed to Kinch. "Hold off, wait for it." Kinch nodded.

"Now," Harry said.

The crowd held their breath

"My decision. I have determined that there is ample evidence to show that these authors have willfully caused damage and harm to these characters. The case will be held over for trial."

A loud whoop could be heard from the prisoners. Riker went "Yes!" while Perry looked aghast.

Harry looked over at the prisoners. "However, justice is slow and the civil court is backed up, so unfortunately, there may be a wait. Colonel Hogan, I'm afraid there is nothing we can do to protect you until that time. You'll just have to hang on. I'm sorry."

Hogan and his men sat there, stunned. Some of the prisoners actually started to cry in relief. The rest of the fan fiction characters, who were hanging around in the back, left.

Riker was happy, but concerned about the wait and the danger the characters were still in. Hopefully, Hogan and his crew might be able to protect themselves by making use of his clandestine assistance. He walked over to the prisoners to wish them luck and shake their hands.

Hogan looked up at Riker and smiled. "Thanks, Commander. I guess we'll see you at the next phase?"

"You can bet on it, Colonel."

The prisoners sat quietly and waited for the ruckus to die down. "What'll we do now, Colonel? Riker said there's more stuff up on that site. We could be dead before the trial!"

Hogan had already planned for this contingency. "Gentlemen, we have the e-mails and passwords. Let's just say we're about to expand our sabotage business."

A/N Sorry folks, but at this point the rest of this chapter kind of "disappeared" from the document manager. I think someone may have hacked into my account and messed around with my stories. Which is really a shame, because this one's not done yet. I also lost, (I know I should have saved them somewhere else, my bad), the story where I had the entire camp come down with chicken pox, the angst-filled story with 47 chapters that examines what happens when Klink discovers the operation, but this time he's not nice about it and decides to lead the torture party himself, and the final show-down between Hochstetter and Hogan; including gunfights, character deaths, bombing raids, poison…well, you get the idea. So, you guys may want to change your passwords just in case this is going around. The funny thing is, my heartwarming tale about Carter's pet rabbit is still in there. LOL. And a nice non-violent ,liberation, happy-ending story showed up in there, and I know I didn't write it. Weird. I promise I will try and finish this eventually, because I know we all get mad when these things aren't completed. But, I have to warn you that real life, etc., gets in the way…yadda, yadda, yadda. And I have to rewrite these things from memory, which will take a while. Oh, I forgot. I did receive an odd private message from someone with the pen name of "Theboysofbarrackstwo." It says to keep vigilant and be afraid of a sequel! I don't know what that means. If any of you have a clue, please pm me. Thanks! Sue. 

ADDED NOTE: DECEMBER 31, 2013. unbelievably, just before I was ready to post the final chapter of this story, way back in the winter of 2009, the site went down for about a week. Yes, that's right. Fanfiction.net went down for about a week. Countless frantic people were googling all over the place...myself included. And that led to the original author's note at the end, and further mention of the shutdown during the sequels to this. (specifically the trial)


End file.
